


putre

by Althaeabuddy



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Pining, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Therapy, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, it's not all bad I promise, well...not really enemies, yikes these tags are;;;;
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-05-07 03:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14662374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Althaeabuddy/pseuds/Althaeabuddy
Summary: Kaito doesn't understand Kokichi, but it's his self-proclaimed mission to help his classmates in need. In doing so, he must ask himself what it means to be a friend to somebody.Kokichi can't afford to get close to anybody ever again. He's sure that even somebody like Kaito will give up on him sooner or later. But somehow, he can't bring himself to feel annoyed by Kaito's efforts.





	1. In Which Kaito Momota Has an Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kind of nervous about posting this fic, since it deals with a lot of heavy topics, and it's been a long time since I've been really depressed so I'm afraid I'll get something wrong. I'm not very good at dealing with mean comments,,,  
> Please take note of the tags.
> 
> Replaying v3, it really seemed to me that Kokichi wasn't doing so well, from his lines about how nobody would miss him if he died to Ryoma's statement about how he doesn't seem to want to survive. Guy's not even doing that well in TDP, if his event with Gonta is any indication...  
> So therefore this fic was born. But don't worry, it's not completely dark. There should be some more lighthearted moments.  
> 

_Kokichi Ouma is like a cockroach._

That was the conclusion that Kaito came to in regards to one of his more obnoxious classmates. Though he did make it a point to avoid thinking about Ouma, but the boy had a way of making his presence know, for better or worse. Usually worse.

But the reason Kaito considered him to be like a cockroach didn’t have anything to do with his behavior, though cockroaches were probably considered to be unpleasant creatures by anybody who wasn’t Gonta, but with his resistance to any sort of adversity.

It had been only two weeks into the new school year at Hope’s Peak Academy when Ouma established his presence among his classmates. He’d waltzed into class with a smile in his hands and several laminated copies of a document that he’d sent flying around the room.

By the time the others had realized what said documents were, Harukawa already had him pressed up against the classroom wall by the throat, apparently not too pleased with her student profile, talent and all, being spread around the class.

It took both Akamatsu and Chabashira to pull her off him, and Ouma fell to the ground, gasping for air.

It didn’t last long. Within five minutes, the other students had confronted Harukawa, who then stormed out of the classroom in irritation, and Ouma was back on his feet, already in fake tears over how cruel she had been to him. And a couple minutes later, the tears were gone and he was back to bouncing around the classroom, somehow managing to both look like he owned the place and like an excited child. What a strange guy, and a pain too.

Well, if it wasn’t for Ouma’s interference, Kaito might not have gotten Harukawa to join him and Saihara for their workout sessions, so at least something good had come of it.

The next day, Ouma left five cups of water upside down on Harukawa’s desk, which she failed to notice until she flipped the first one over, and fled the classroom before he could be strangled a second time.

He missed class, but there was no problem with that. It was Hope’s Peak after all, and the students had near free reign of the campus.

Two weeks later, Ouma took on a self-imposed challenge to see if he could walk along one of the balustrades in the school. He failed, and also fell an entire floor and banged his head on the stairs below. He’d walked that one off as well.

Which was why it was sort of surprising to Kaito when Akamatsu came to class one day, downtrodden look on her face, to announce that Ouma was in the hospital and wouldn’t be in school for a while.

Apparently, his antics had finally caught up with him, or at least that was what Kaito assumed at the time. He’d snorted under his breath.

“What sort of stupid thing did he do this time?”

He remembered the exact words he said, if only because Akamatsu started crying after that, which was something that Kaito hadn’t seen before, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d caused it. Whatever had happened with Ouma seemed to have left her really shaken up.

After that, Amami took over to suggest that everyone make cards for Ouma to wish him a quick recovery. Everyone took a piece of construction paper, more out of obligation than anything.

Kaito wasn’t really sure what to write, and he wondered if the others felt the same way. Nobody knew Ouma that well after all. He glanced at his sidekicks for inspiration. Harukawa had left hers blank, which wasn’t surprising. Saihara seemed to be writing a lot, but he had his arm carefully positioned over his card so nobody could see. That was a bust, then.

He wrote out a standard “get well soon” message and drew a crude rocket ship on the front of the card for a personal touch, which he immediately regretted when Iruma saw it and started cackling over the general shape of rocket ships.

They collected the cards into a pile for Tojo to bring to Ouma later.

Akamatsu sat in her desk, silently. She still looked pale. Damn, whatever had happened must’ve been bad. He could cause whatever trouble he wanted, but there was no reason to leave his classmates traumatized over it.

Then again, maybe whatever had happened hadn’t been Ouma’s fault. There was a first time for everything.

He watched Akamatsu take a couple of deep breaths before she stood up from her seat and cleared her throat.

Technically, Tojo was the class representative, but Akamatsu also had many leadership qualities, and more often than not, she was the one taking charge. So everyone stopped to listen when she spoke.

“Hey, maybe we should all…try to get along with Ouma-kun a little more, okay?” Her natural strength of character overrode any distress that might have interfered with her speaking. Her words sounded confident, hopeful. But there was something else there too.

Communication was important for an astronaut. Kaito always worked to pick up subtleties in the words of others. So he listened for that subtlety.

She sounded angry. At whom, he couldn’t tell. Them, Ouma, herself? Kaito didn’t know at the time.

 

Ouma was out of school for just under a week, and it was the quietest week of school thus far. Sure, Iruma and he himself made plenty of noise on their own, but the absence of Ouma’s familiar presence left awkward silences and, as much as he hated to admit it, more boring days. Though Kaito couldn’t very well admit that he missed Ouma. Well, maybe he did. But only a little.

A few students went to visit him, mostly Akamatsu, Saihara, and Gonta, who went nearly every day, but Kaito didn’t. It seemed like a weird thing to do, given that he didn’t know Ouma that well. Plus, he was busy taking care of his sidekicks.

Harukawa and Saihara had plenty of struggles in their lives, and as their self-proclaimed leader, it was Kaito’s job to help them overcome those struggles. He liked to think that that was something he was good at, taking people under his wing and helping them along. It was super important; the world would be a much better place if everyone helped each other.

Ouma returned soon enough, seemingly unharmed and with all his regular bluster, and Kaito wasn’t sure what Akamatsu had been worried about, as he seemed fine. Like a cockroach.

…

The skies in Tokyo were filled with light pollution, which Kaito hated.

His grandparents lived out in the country, where the skies shone with stars at night and he could take his telescope out on the roof of their little house and find all the planets. But the city was never fully dark and the fake red and white glow seemed to blur into the night sky until it was a murky, unrecognizable puddle.

But Kaito didn’t give up his stargazing, because he didn’t give up on anything.

He brought his portable telescope up to the fifth floor roof of Hope’s Peak several times a week. The building was tall and he was sure the architects took great pride in the way it towered over even the businesses and apartment complexes around it. And even though it was easier to see the lights of the surrounding buildings below, Kaito still kept his gaze upwards, positioning his telescope on the rooftop ledge, careful not to let it fall over the edge, and found the faint stars and planets peering through the city lights.

He brought Harukawa and Shuichi up with him some of the time, as these things were always best shared with friends, but the two of them often had their own responsibilities to attend to. So that particular night, Kaito hauled his telescope up the flights of stairs by himself, proud of how well his astronaut training had paid off.

The roof that he went to had a motion sensor light, for cleaning or something, he assumed, that always turned on when he opened the rooftop door. Blackness, and then light that he tried to make go away by standing perfectly still, not wanting it to interfere with his stargazing. But this time, the light was on already, which was a strange thing.

There was somebody already out there, standing on the ledge of the roof, barely illuminated in the dim light.

Kaito felt a sinking feeling in his gut. There were only so many ways to interpret that sight, and Kaito was definitely not prepared to deal with such a situation.

The sound of the opening door must have alerted the other person, as they spun around to face him, and Kaito took a step out onto the rooftop, trying to determine who they were.

Of all people, it was Ouma balancing on the rooftop ledge. He stared at Kaito with a familiar smile plastered on his face.

“Hi Momota-chan, I’m so glad you came to see me!” he chirped while somehow managing to sound the complete opposite of glad.

Kaito spluttered for a couple of seconds, not sure how to respond, before he pulled himself together well enough to ask “what the hell are you doing?”

“It’s a funny story, actually,” Ouma said, rocking back and forth dangerously close to the edge of the roof, and Kaito took a step forward on reflex. “You see, that bitch-tits Iruma-chan bet me 1200 yen that I wouldn’t walk along the ledge of this rooftop. She also said I had to be naked, but I’m still getting to that part.”

“…what?”

“Sooo, I would suggest that you leave, unless” he flashed a mischievous expression “you want to see me in my birthday suit that badly!”

Really, Kaito didn’t know why he’d expected anything else from Ouma. He took the bait on impulse anyway.

“Shut up, there’s no way I wanna see you naked!”

He was about to leave, not interested in dealing with Ouma’s antics at such an hour, when his eyes caught sight of something else.

“Where did your shoes go?”

Ouma looked down at his bare feet, as if he’d only just notice himself, before popping his head back up to face Kaito. “It’s for balance, duh! Do you want a repeat of the banister incident?”

Falling five stories instead of one would probably lead to a far different scenario, Kaito thought silently to himself.

He could have just left then and there. But Ouma’s explanation was delivered a little too perfectly, and Kaito had learned by then not to trust a word he said anyhow. The bad feeling in his gut hadn’t gone away, and his gut was never wrong.

“Is that…really true?”

“Of course it is!” Ouma’s answer came just as smoothly. “Although” he narrowed his eyes at Kaito “it sounds to me like you’re making lots of your own assumptions, right Momota-chan?”

When Kaito didn’t respond, Ouma continued. “You don’t really believe that I would kill myself, do you? I’m not that type of person, you know?”

Kaito had no idea what he meant by that. “I mean, you do know how this looks, right?”

“I suppose that’s true.” A gust of wind blew over the rooftop, and Ouma’s hair and scarf swirled around him. “But unfortunately, this really is for a dare.”

Now that was definitely weird. ”What do you mean, unfortunately?”

“Not for me, for you! I mean you do hate me, after all. And you want to get rid of me, you said so yourself.”

“When did I say that?” Kaito snapped. The June air was hot, but at that moment, Kaito felt cold. In the dim light, he couldn’t quite place the expression on Ouma’s face.

“I remember you saying how you wished I just transfer of something so I wouldn’t bother anyone anymore!”

Had he said that? He didn’t remember, but well…it sounded like something he would say.

“T-that’s different! I never wanted you dead!”

“But isn’t it the same thing, for you at least. Either way, you wouldn’t have to see me again. The result is the same.” He placed a finger on his chin as if in mock thought. “Well, I guess Akamatsu-san might make you attend my funeral or something, but I’m sure you can get out of going. Nobody else will be there anyway.”

Kaito wasn’t sure if it was his words or the fact that he’d changed to speaking in certain terms that unnerved him, but he took a couple more steps forward until he was barely a meter away from Ouma.

“That’s ridiculous logic!”

“Is it, though?”

Kaito had hoped that by being closer, he would have a better read of Ouma’s expressions, but if anything, it was more difficult now that Ouma had put up another blank smile.

“But that’s all just hypothetical, isn’t it?” Ouma was the one who stepped backwards this time, and Kaito drew a sharp breath.

“Ouma, is that that…a lie too?”

Ouma didn’t answer him. Instead, his smile widened as he took one more step backwards and fell into the blackness.

The world slowed.


	2. In Which Kaito saves a life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy that I got so many nice comments! Thank you everyone! 
> 
> This chapter is a lot shorter than the last, the first chapter needed to be longer to set up the story.

That night, it seemed that time must have been warped in some way. Because it took forever for Kaito’s feet to press against the ground and push him forward and equally as long for him to reach out his hand. But the minute he grabbed hold of Ouma’s scarf, everything sped up and it left him grasping frantically, only just managing to seize the other boy’s arm and shirt collar when the scarf gave away before his stomach collided with the ledge.

And only then did time go back to normal, as Kaito planted his feet on the ground, making sure to never loosen his grip. Ouma was light, too light he might have thought in any other circumstance, but it allowed him to pull the other up with relative ease.

Once he was back on solid ground, Ouma sank downwards, pulling Kaito along with him. Kaito couldn’t make out his face, but that wasn’t his biggest concern as he gasped for air, sweat running down his forehead as though he’d just gone through some intensive training regiment.

It took him about a minute to collect himself, and the first thing he did was grab Ouma by the shoulders and shake him.

“What the fuck? What the fuck?” His voice was quivering, but he didn’t care. Ouma offered no resistance as he shook him back and forth. “Why did you—“

Kaito couldn’t even finish his question before Ouma’s head popped back up, bright smile and all.

“I gotcha!”

Before Kaito could get another word in, Ouma bounced to his feet with speed that Kaito didn’t know he possessed. He was laughing, in a way that didn’t sound quite right. “Did you think I would actually kill myself? That’s so stupid!”

“What?”

“I knew that Momota-chan would catch me, of course! Because I planned it out that way. I made sure you had more than enough time to grab me, and since you’re all about being such a goody two-shoes, I knew you would totally do it!”

Once again, Kaito was left spluttering. Ouma’s words were almost convincing, but there was no way he could believe them. Not when he had just…

“Bullshit! I just barely managed to catch you! You could’ve died!”

Ouma shrugged, as though it wasn’t that big a deal. “Well, maybe I misjudged the distance just a teeny bit! But there’s no reason for you to worry, I’ve trained myself to withstand any fall. Since I’m actually a phantom thief, I need to make dramatic exits, you know!”

Whatever nonsense Ouma was blabbering about was not at all satisfactory to Kaito. He leapt to his feet as well, fists clenched in anger. Ouma had already begun to back away, but he shot out his hand to grab his wrist.

Ouma frowned. “Let go.”

Kaito didn’t. “That’s not an explanation! Don’t just walk away.”

Ouma was quiet for a second, and it looked to Kaito as if he was seething with anger.

Then he smiled up at Kaito, and in the dim light, with his face shrouded in shadow, he looked actually frightening enough to make Kaito take a step back, letting go. And before he could react, Ouma already had the door pushed open.

“I don’t see why it’s your business, Momota-chan,” he said in an icy voice. “I’ll handle myself, okay? Better that than someone who barely knows me.”

“Wait!” But Ouma was already gone, throwing the door closed behind him.

There would be no use chasing after him, Kaito knew. He was too fast, and probably wouldn’t react well to that anyhow.

Kaito sighed, making his way own to his telescope, which he’d dropped on the ground to grab Ouma. From the rattling it made when he picked it up, it was probably broken.

Well, that sucked. Hopefully, he could get Iruma to fix it for him.

Because telescopes could be fixed when they broke. So it was worth it, by far.

 

He lingered in front of Ouma’s dorm for a moment, but decided he didn’t know what to say. So he walked back to his own dorm room.

Maybe if he went to sleep, he would wake up in the morning and this would have been a bad dream.

It took a lot of tossing and turning to fall asleep.


	3. In Which Kaito seeks advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter's a little weaker than the others, but it'll pick up more from here. 
> 
> Kaito is trying his best

Kaito watched Ouma’s empty seat out of the corner of his eye. About half the class had already arrived and he wondered if Ouma would show up at all. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d missed a class.

He arrived a few minutes later, having apparently roped Amami into giving him a piggyback ride. If what had happened yesterday had fazed him, he certainly didn’t show it. Though that was probably to be expected from Ouma.

Kaito tried to meet his eye as Ouma skipped over to his desk, but he avoided even glancing in Kaito’s direction. Before Kaito got the chance to say or do anything else, the homeroom teacher began the lesson. It was pretty boring. He’d heard that some of the other classes had pretty exciting teacher, but his class was not among them.

Kaito was unable to focus on taking notes, so instead he doodled rocket ships in the margins of his notebook. It wasn’t that important anyway, there were no tests at Hope’s Peak to worry about besides the annual examinations.

What should he do about Ouma? Maybe Ouma was right and this wasn’t any of his business but, well, he could’ve died! Kaito couldn’t very well sit back and do nothing.

Should he tell someone? Ouma would almost certainly hate that, but if it saved his life…

Maybe if he got the chance to talk to him again, but he doubted that Ouma would listen to him.

He was right on that note, as the minute the bell rang for lunch, Ouma dashed out of the classroom before Kaito could utter as much as a word.

So Kaito chose to tap Saihara on the shoulder. The other boy jumped a bit in surprise, halfway through removing his lunch from his bag.

“Hey, Saihara,” Kaito did his best to keep his voice low. “Can I talk to you? Alone?”

Saihara must have heard the seriousness in his voice, because he nodded silently, grabbing the boxed lunch Tojo had made for him to take with him.

They found a secluded spot behind the school building, and after checking if anyone was nearby, Kaito took a seat on the grass. He drummed his finger on the ground, how was one supposed to start a conversation like this?

“So, I wanted to talk to you about something. About Ouma.”

Saihara looked a bit uncomfortable. “Um, it’s not gossip, is it?”

“No!” Kaito said a bit too loudly. “Sorry, it’s not gossip, I don’t think. It’s kinda…important.”

Saihara nodded silently in response.

Kaito took a deep breath. Might as well get straight to the point. “Ouma tried to jump off the roof last night and I’m worried about him but I don’t think he wants anyone else to know.”

Saihara’s reaction was only a sad frown. He didn’t seem surprised.

“Did you…already know?”

“Um,” Saihara fiddled with his hat. “Kind of. I knew that he was, um, suicidal, but I didn’t know that he’d…” He trailed off.

Kaito wanted to press about how Saihara knew that in the first place, but the other boy looked uncomfortable as it was. Detective stuff, probably.

They sat in silence for a while before Kaito spoke again. “So…what now?”

Saihara just looked more downtrodden. “I don’t know. I’ve tried to help before but…he just keeps pushing me away.”

“But I can’t just do nothing!” Kaito raised his voice again. “This is—fuck, if I hadn’t grabbed him, he would’ve—he was already in freefall!”

“I know, but...” Saihara fiddled with his hat again. “The doctor I talked to said that you can’t help someone who…who doesn’t want to be helped.”

“What? That’s bullshit!” Kaito wanted to punch whatever doctor would say something like that. “They just gave up on him?”

“I’m sorry,” Saihara mumbled. “I tried, I really did, but…”

Kaito took a moment to calm down upon the realization that Saihara probably thought his outburst was directed at him. “Yeah, I believe you, but even professionals?”

Silence.

“Well, I’m not gonna give up! I’m gonna find a way to help Ouma, screw whatever anyone else says!”

At that, Saihara smiled. “You did help Harukawa-san and me, so maybe you’re right.”

“What’d you mean, maybe? Of course I’m right!”

 

Kaito liked to think that he was good at finding and helping the people who needed it. He’d seen Saihara, who for the first week or so of class had stuttered anxiously and continuously doubted himself and his detective skills, and started up their nightly workout sessions. Of course, things weren’t perfect. He still wished Saihara would take off his hat, but they were getting there.

And then there was Harukawa, who had refused to interact with his classmates after her talent was found out. She had made herself out to be so cold and unfeeling, but Kaito liked to think he’d helped her too, even if it meant ringing her doorbell every 15 minutes until she gave in and joined him for training. She made at least an effort to interact with her classmates, and she was already more expressive.

Yeah, Kaito was sure that even if his true talent lay in his work as an astronaut, his secondary talent was probably helping those in need.

So there was no way that he was going to back down now.


	4. In Which Kaito doesn't give up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might take a little longer for me to get chapters out right now, I've got several other things I'm working on and my productivity kind of dropped off. :,]

 Kaito rang Ouma’s bell five times before he answered. To Kaito’s dismay, he didn’t open the door.

“Who’s there?” Ouma’s muffled voice came from inside the room.

Kaito swallowed. If he wanted to help Ouma, he needed to be straightforward. “It’s Momota. I want to talk to you.”

Ouma was silent for a couple seconds before he spoke. “Aww man! Momota-chan’s so boring. I was hoping it’d be someone cool.”

“Hey, I’m not boring!” Kaito cursed himself for taking the bait. “Anyway, can you open the door already?”

“Nope!” Ouma chirped in response, and refused to speak to Kaito again.

Kaito rang the doorbell for five minutes straight to no avail. He sighed, Ouma probably had earplugs or something. He should’ve expected that it wouldn’t be that easy.

Time for a change of plans.

 

“Hey Ouma!”

No response.

“I brought you some food.” Kaito wasn’t sure what Ouma liked to eat, but he seemed like the type to enjoy sweet foods, so he’d brought a bag of mixed candies and some cookies Tojo made.

Still nothing.

“I’ll just leave these outside, okay?” It was getting late anyway, and there was still class tomorrow.

“Goodnight, Ouma.”

 

The next morning as he passed by Ouma’s room, Kaito noticed that the food he’d left had gone untouched.

That was…concerning. Especially since Ouma hadn’t spoken to him at all. He’d assumed the other boy was ignoring him, but what if he was…

Kaito banged on the door with quickly increasing urgency. “Ouma! Ouma, are you alright?”

He was on the verge of knocking the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around, displeased at being interrupted. Behind him stood Saihara.

“Um, if you’re looking for Ouma, I think he already left. I heard him talking to Gonta earlier.”

Kaito couldn’t hold back his sigh of relief. Saihara probably understood his worry.

In the classroom, Kaito found Ouma sitting at his desk, swinging his feet back and forth idly, completely unaware of the heart attack he’d almost caused Kaito.

He didn’t get a chance to talk to him before class, but he decided that he wouldn’t let him slip away again. He discreetly slipped his school supplies back into his desk and shifted his body so he could be the first out of his seat.

It paid off, as Kaito was able to make his way over to Ouma’s seat before the other boy was able to even stand up. He gave Kaito a cheeky smile, but his eyes were cold.

“Hey, can we talk?” Kaito did his best to keep his voice low, Ouma probably wouldn’t be pleased if he alerted the entire class.

This turned out to be incorrect, as Ouma instantly burst into loud tears. “Wahhhhhh Momota-chan’s so mean! He’s bullying meeeee!” Everyone turned to look, and Ouma quieted down just a bit. “Just because I broke your stupid telescope doesn’t mean you get to harass me all the time you know!”

“I don’t care about th—um, yeah, about the telescope. That was expensive! So you better come and talk to me about paying for it!”

Ouma rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, if it’ll get Momota-chan to stop being such a bully.”

With their little skit performed, Ouma followed Kaito out of the classroom.

Kaito had assumed that Ouma would run off the minute they were outside, but he didn’t, instead choosing to lean back against the wall a ways away from the classroom. His expression was cold again, and even in the daylight, it kind of creeped Kaito out.

“Didn’t I tell you to mind your own business?” His voice sounded sly, but there was a hint of anger behind it. “Behaving like that to a supreme leader. That’s the sort of thing that could get you killed, you know?”

“Yeah, ok.” Kaito didn’t believe that Ouma was being entirely truthful about his talent. “But I’m not gonna mind my own business, okay! I’m gonna help you!”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say, because Ouma’s expression only grew colder.

“I don’t need your ‘help’, Momota-chan. You’ve only been an annoyance so far, you know.”

 He pushed himself away from the wall and took a couple steps close to Kaito.

“And I’m wondering, why exactly do you care so much about helping me? Is it because you like me as a person? Have I ever done anything to endear myself to you?”

Kaito couldn’t respond.

“Or is it not really about me at all? Is it about _you?_ That’s your thing, isn’t it? Finding people who you decide are broken so you can fix them? Isn’t that right?”

Kaito clenched his fists at his sides, any rebuttals he might have made dying in his throat. It wasn’t true, it wasn’t like that, and that must be why he felt so upset.

His fists shook in anger.

“Do you like playing the hero, Momota-chan? Do you like playing around with other people’s lives so you can feel better about yourself? Does it make you feel big and powerful?

“Or is it just your way of pretending to care?”

Kaito saw red.

The next thing he knew, his knuckles were burning as he stood over Ouma, breathing heavily with his arm out in front of him.

Ouma was on the ground, cheek cupped in one hand as he stared at his feet.

Kaito took another few deep breaths.

“Shit, I’m…”

He didn’t get to say anything else before Ouma got back to his feet, letting both his arms swing limply from his slouched shoulders.

Kaito couldn’t see his face under his hair.

He turned and walked away, his retreating figure looking tired and sagged. Following him wouldn’t do any good right now.

Kaito groaned to himself, placing his sore hand to his head. He’d messed up. He’d messed up really bad. He was supposed to try to help Ouma, but instead he’d gone and punched him instead.

Maybe Ouma was right, and he really was just trying to make himself look better. If he really cared that much about Ouma, he wouldn’t have hit him, right?

Did he like Ouma as a person? He barely knew anything about Ouma besides his tendency for causing trouble and telling lies. But what were his hobbies and interests, what did he like and dislike?

He’d never given it much thought.

It had been too easy to see Ouma as some sort of entity who spoke in lies and never showed his true face. It had been too easy to forget that he was only human.

Standing up on the rooftop like that, for just a moment…

_“you do hate me, after all”_

…he had looked so sad.


	5. In Which Kokichi Ouma remembers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kokichi pov. I rewrote this like three times because I wasn't happy with it so I hope it turned out alright in the end.
> 
> Minor warning for mentions of pedophilia, it's nothing major and nothing happens but I figured I should warn for it

_His cheek was going to bruise, there was no doubt about that._

_Kokichi pressed an ice pack against it, hoping to at least minimize some of the damage. He’d rather not have to look at it in the mirror._

_(Then again, it was already unpleasant to look in the mirror as it was)._

_What a miserable, self-pitying state he was in. Pathetic._

_His cheek had grown numb under the ice. If he left it on, it would probably just burn him._

_Too cold. He tossed it aside._

_Bruising shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter._

 

At school, Kokichi was the lucky child of two millionaire parents who showered him with all the finest things in life and who took him on cruises nearly every weekend. And that was how he’d gotten a black eye, from scuba-diving in the coral reefs of Oceania when he got hit in the face by a stingray.

The other kids got tired of listening to him after a while, after they realized he was spouting nonsense. There were a few, however, who looked at him with wide eyes and asked what a stingray was and so Kokichi told them tales of huge, scaly fish with razor sharp teeth and jaws that could unhinge like a snake and he was lucky to escape with his life, really. Eventually, even they stopped listening after the teachers stepped in to correct Kokichi’s stories.

The teachers asked him questions too, when they pulled him aside out of obligatory concern and the desire to seem like responsible adults. He could come up with a believable lie, but that wasn’t very fun so instead he layered ludicrous stories on top of each other until whatever curious adult had pried into his home life became too exasperated to continue.

 

The woman wore a smile that was always painfully fake. He could see it reflected in the mirror above his head.

“You don’t want to be like your father, do you?”

“No,” Kokichi said, because that’s what he was supposed to say.

It was the truth, though. He didn’t want to end up as a burnt out drunkard, spending all his wages on booze and staying out all night until he staggered in the door to scream about something or another.

There was always something going on at work that upset him, but it wasn’t as if he could act out there if he wanted to keep his job. Or in public, if he wanted to keep face.

The neighbors could probably hear them through the thin walls of their apartment, but they never said anything.

 

He learned how to hide, to be completely silent as he crammed himself into a dark cupboard and pressed his hands over his ears so he didn’t hear the sounds of yelling.

His father hit and his mother hit back and neither would protect him if he were caught in the crossfire.

It was hide and seek, that was all. They wouldn’t find him.

He stayed until a police officer pried the cupboard door open, speaking to him in a soft tone that was probably supposed to be comforting.

He shielded Kokichi’s eyes from yellow tape and chalk outlines.

 

They didn’t make him testify against his father. It wasn’t like there was much ambiguity in the case anyhow. It was hard to call self-defense on using a knife against someone armed with only their fists.

Instead, he packed his bags full of a few pairs of clothes so the adults could ship him off to some institution.

He stayed there for two weeks, under the pitying eyes of the staff and the judgmental eyes of the other wards before he ran away and never looked back.

Maybe he should have done that long ago.

 

Surviving wasn’t as hard as he expected it to be, his quick wit, innocent appearance, and natural agility made pickpocketing easy. It was harder to find a place to sleep and a way to keep his stuff from being stolen or from getting taken in by police as a runaway.

For a year or so, he lived alone and traveled often, keeping the appearance of a schoolboy who could slip under the radars of most people.

He didn’t consider forming bonds with anyone else on the streets until a sandy-haired girl about a year younger than Kokichi latched onto him and refused to leave.

Her name was Eriko. Kokichi gave her the codename “Gold”, like the shogi piece, and that was the beginning of his family.

 

He lingered on street corners, dressed in elementary school clothes and filled his eyes with fake tears. It never took long to get some adult to come over and ask what was wrong.

He spun a different sob story each time, though they always seemed to have a bit of truth to them, and watched their eyes as he explained how much he needed money.

Most of them mumbled something about not being able to help, but there were always a few with kindly looks in their eyes who would give him a few hundred yen so he could save his dying sister or feed his hungry family or whatever else, which was nice but not ideal.

He watched for the ones with the hungry look in their eyes who glanced him over and sized him up. There were always a few sickos around, and then Kokichi could bat his eyelashes. “Oh please help me, I’ll do anything you want if you give me a bit of food” _._ It was simple, like luring flies, and he felt that was an apt way to describe them.

Once they got him inside, it was a simple matter to start screaming at the top of his lungs until the neighbors came knocking, and then he could fall out into the hall in tears to tell the concerned adults about how he was so scared and he didn’t know this person. It was easy after that to slip away in the chaos with the wallet of his latest victim, who was usually too busy trying to defend themselves from the allegations of being a child predator to cancel their credit card.

Hitoshi, code name “snake”, was the fastest typer and the best at ordering tens of thousands of yen worth of goods from online websites to drop off in a variety of secluded locations. It worked like a charm, and it wasn’t as if his victims didn’t deserve what they got.

Occasionally, things went south and nobody came to check up on him, in which case he would have to make a quick getaway, either through the door or, occasionally, a window. It was probably thanks to both luck and speed that nothing bad had happened yet, but it wasn’t a job without its risks.

That’s why Kokichi was the one to take that position. It was his job as the leader to take on the most dangerous jobs. It was a matter of principle.

 

They traveled often to avoid suspicion, camping out in warehouses and abandoned buildings, warming up in winter with a portable stove and some thick blankets.

_Maybe winter had always been the worst time of the year._

They started to make enough money to live comfortably, after a while. After that, they lived out of hotel rooms and turned to harmless pranks over theft in their downtime, they traveled further, far enough to make a name for themselves, even if that reputation was of street bandits.

It was always good to have a nice laugh. They bought water balloons and squirt guns and spray paint and bubble soap. They played their pranks and laughed about them later, huddled together in a warm, well-lit room.

If it was hard to find happiness, hard to smile, hard to get out of bed, Kokichi had people who would help. He had a reason to try and a family to make it a little easier.

Kokichi liked to think he was happy, back then.


	6. In Which Kokichi makes a deal

Kokichi preferred not to make a habit of moping about in his room. That was pretty boring, as most things were, and it wasn’t very supreme leader-like to lie around all day. So most days, he pushed through his tiredness and swaggered around the school, thinking up plans for mischief making in between teasing his classmates.

However, lately things had been…troublesome. And so that was why he was holed up in his room, not to mope but to avoid said trouble.

God, Momota was annoying! He should just keep his nose where it belonged, which was out of Kokichi’s business.

Oh well, it wasn’t as if this would last for long. Sooner or later, Momota would realize he wasn’t worth the effort and go back to bugging Saihara and little miss assassin. Sure, he might be more persistent than most people, but everyone had their limits and Kokichi considered himself good at pushing them.

At that time, Momota was back at his door, ringing the bell over and over. Apparently, he hadn’t learned anything.

“Hey, Ouma!” Momota’s voice was muffled by the door. “Look, I’m really sorry okay. I didn’t mean to hit you.”

Kokichi didn’t respond, instead opting to stick his tongue out childishly at the door.

“Can you please talk to me? Just for a moment?”

Kokichi continued to remain silent, and it wasn’t too long before he heard the sound of Momota’s footsteps walking away.

He’d been less persistent than yesterday at least. He must not have the patience to wait around for thirty minutes every day.

Kokichi was making progress.

 

Momota managed to corner him just over a week later, out in the courtyard of the school. He could hear the alarm bells going off in his head from the moment he heard footsteps behind him.

“Hey, Ouma.” Momota’s voice was quieter than before, which made him slightly more bearable.

Kokichi stuck a smile on his face and spun around, pivoting on one foot. “Wow, and here I thought my beloved Momota-chan had been avoiding me!”

Momota looked baffled, which also meant he was distracted. Good. “You’re the one who’s been avoiding me! I’ve been trying to talk to you all week.”

Yeah, no kidding. “Nishishi, Momota-chan’s so persistent.” Kokichi put a finger to his lips, taking on a sneaky expression. “And he never seems to learn anything either.”

Unfortunately, that bait didn’t seem to work on Momota as he looked a bit sheepish. “Look, I wanna say sorry for hitting you. I—that was stupid of me.”

Well, at least he had some shame. Kokichi said nothing.

“So that’s why,” Momota returned to his usual enthusiastic self in a second. “you should hit me too!”

Kokichi raised his eyebrows slightly. Really, it shouldn’t have been too surprising that Momota was the type to do something like that. Making them even or whatever. Kokichi was tempted to just do it, but given Momota’s personality…

“Nah,” he said dismissively. “I don’t really feel like it.”

“Wha-why not?” Momota looked confused again. Score one for Kokichi or whatever.

“I just said why. I don’t feel like it.” He made a show of looking bored. “So if that’s all Momota-chan wants, he can go away.”

Yeah, hurry up and go away. Even if Momota was troublesome, he didn’t deserve to be near a person like Kokichi.

“Nah, actually, I wanted to ask if you wanted to do something together.”

Well, that was unexpected. But he could work with it. “Ooh, are you asking me out on a date, Momota-chan? Sorry, but I’ll have to refuse, my one and only love is the sweet release of death.”

Momota balked at that. Got ‘im.

“Seriously, though. Just listen to me for a moment, okay?”

Momota didn’t give Kokichi a chance to object before moving on. “You’re right, I think. That I just wanted to be a hero or something without really getting to know you. So that’s why we’re gonna become friends!”

Shit.

“So we gotta get to know each other, alright!”

That was something he could work with. “You want to ‘get to know me’, huh? Wow, I didn’t know Momota-chan swung that way!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Momota had gone red though, so that was another goal accomplished. He sighed. “Look, how about we make a deal.”

A deal, huh? That was interesting, and worth hearing out at least. “What do you have in mind?”

“For as long as we hang out together, I wouldn’t bother you about, um, you know.”

Momota looked uncomfortable and Kokichi latched on. Hopefully he would get annoyed and move on soon instead of bugging him. “Noo, I don’t know.”

“Yes you do!”

“Then say it.”

Momota sighed again, running his hand through his hair. “About you trying to kill yourself. Is that okay?”

Kokichi thought on Momota’s proposed deal. Really, it wasn’t bad. In fact, having Kokichi around would probably be more annoying for Momota than anything.

He pretended to think for a moment. “Okay, I’ll accept your deal!”

Momota’s face lit up, which Kokichi decided was silly. He must be really naïve to be so excited about spending time with Kokichi.

“Well then, what should we do today?”

As Kokichi thought, an idea came to his mind. “How about rock paper scissors?”

If Momota was surprised by his choice, he didn’t show it. Instead, he took a seat in the grass and held out his hand.

Kokichi threw the same thing as Momota twenty-four times, hoping to get a rise out of him. And it worked, for a while, as Momota went from looking surprised to annoyed and then, to Kokichi’s chagrin, to impressed.

“Wow, how did you do that, dude?”

Was he really impressed? “Nishishi. I’ll never reveal my secrets, too bad Momota-chan.”

Momota looked genuinely disappointed at that.

“Anyway, shoo! I’m done playing for today.”

Momota obliged, to his credit. Kokichi flopped down on his back and listened to the sound of the other’s retreating footsteps.

It was a pretty nice day, though a bit too warm for him in his bandanna and uniform (he had refused to wear the Hope’s Peak Academy one). So he took a moment to appreciate it, but instead his mind wandered back to his interactions with Momota.

Momota was strange. He was so predictable sometimes, but other times baffling. What a weird guy.

Whatever. It wouldn’t last. Sooner or later, Momota would realize that there was nothing for him to save. Sooner or later, he would grab on too hard and his hand would go right through Kokichi’s softened skin into the rotting mush inside.


	7. In Which Kokichi keeps his distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter I had to rewrite a bunch of times before I was satisfied :/  
> Also reminder to mind the tags! Oh k o k i c h i...

If Kokichi was going to humor Momota for as long as the other bothered to hang around, there were some rules to be established. Well, really just one rule.

Don’t be vulnerable. Ever.

That wouldn’t be too hard. It was the same thing he’d been doing ever since he arrived at this school, after all.

Great. Now he just had to outlast Momota’s interest in him and he’d be good to go.

He lay back on his bed, kicking his feet up in the air, and surveyed the mess that was his room. He’d managed to cover the walls and floor with half-formed plans for mischief and various trinkets. He didn’t care enough to pick up, and there was no chance in hell he would let Tojo into his room. Too many secrets, and the faint smell of blood alone would probably be enough to raise alarm bells for one so astute as her.

He rubbed idly at one of his arms. Ice cold, and the blood that ran inside was certainly cold too. Weren’t living things supposed to be warm?

Not right now. Now, he should focus on trying to sleep. Or something.

Instead, he stayed up all night, tossing and turning until the sun rose.

 

Momota, true to his word, returned to bother Kokichi the next day. They met in the same place as yesterday, the courtyard. He would like to say that he resented Momota’s reappearance, but Gonta was off taking care of his gross bugs or something and Amami had left on a trip, so he welcomed the distraction from his boredom.

That was a dangerous thought to have though, so squashed it as quickly as he could.

“You like games, right?” Momota asked cheerily, and continued before Kokichi could answer. “Do you wanna play chess? It seems like the kind of thing you’d like.”

It was, but Kokichi wasn’t about to admit that. “I guessss.” He made a show of whining about it, though Momota didn’t seem to be fooled.

“Okay.” Momota begin to set up the board he’d brought on one of the outdoor tables. “Which color do you want?”

From a strategy standpoint, it was probably better to play as black, but Kokichi had always preferred white. He liked taking the initiative, and plus, the color matched the DICE uniform.

He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. He chose black this time. No harm in getting a leg up, though he doubted that Momota would prove to be much of a threat.

Momota nodded in agreement, taking his place on the other side of the board.

They began their game, getting pieces into position. The astronaut seemed interested in making small talk or something, which was a prime opportunity to pester Momota more.

“What other games do you like?” Momota asked, pushing up one of his pawns. He was probably looking for ideas for their next outing or whatever. The idea was amusing to Kokichi, it was like a friendship event in a visual novel, except Kokichi wasn’t making any friends here.

“Hmmm, I enjoy the game of manipulating the stock market according to my whims.” He moved one of his own pieces with bravado, not looking too hard at the board.

“Hey, I’m being serious!”

Kokichi rolled his eyes, beginning the start of his strategy. He snapped up one of Momota’s pawns. “If Momota-chan wants to become besties with me, then he’ll have to figure that out for himself.” The words rolled smoothly off his tongue, simple and evasive.

He though he heard Momota sigh under his breath. Well, good. He’d been the one to initiate this in the first place.

They played in silence for a couple more minutes after that.

“I just thought.” Momota scratched his head, using his other hand to take one of Kokichi’s sacrificed pieces off the board. “That if we’re gonna spend time together, we should both enjoy it.”

Both? What did he mean by that? Was he enjoying this, like some sort of masochist?

Kokichi faltered, knocking over the piece he was trying to take with his hand.

Momota’s rook rolled in a small circle on the board, the noise it made drawing Kokichi’s attention.

He stood up quickly, maybe a little too quickly as he banged his leg on the bottom of the table. “Man, this is boring! Momota-chan’s a terrible chess player.”

Take the bait. Take it!

“Hey, are you alright?” Momota peered up at him. Fuck.

Even Momota could see through him.

“Of course not, I just told you that I’m bored, didn’t I? You should leave now, I’m done.”

Instead of letting Momota leave, however, Kokichi took his brief silence as a chance to hurry off himself.

He hated leaving games unfinished. It sucked, there was no fun in that. But he wasn’t too invested in his game with Momota, so this was fine. It was fine.

He arrived back at his room, unable to remember how he’d gotten there. The hallway was empty, so he took a moment to lean on the door, trying to catch his breath. Which was stupid, because he hadn’t even walked that fast. Stupid. Stupid.

He tried to breathe. In, out, but he didn’t think any air actually made it into his lungs.

Pulling himself back together as best he could, he unlocked his room and quickly shut the door behind him, sliding down onto the floor in a limp pile.

This was pathetic. He was pathetic. It was just a stupid game, so stupid symbolism or whatever shit the universe wanted to torment him with didn’t matter.

He probably deserved it. That torment. But still.

It hurt.

Kokichi shut his eyes. In, out. Hit the reset button and stop feeling.

He couldn’t do that anymore. Why? Even as a child, shivering in a cupboard with his hands over his ears, he’d been able to do it. He could make the pain go away, or maybe just push it down into some deep pit that he could only hope he’d never overfill.

Now, pain never went away. It could wrap its icy tendrils around Kokichi’s insides and stay there forever. Like matter, it couldn’t be destroyed, only moved around. Only altered.

His blood ran cold. Like icy hands digging into his shoulders. Like frigid nights huddled behind a dumpster. Like corpses.

Kokichi forced himself to his feet, his legs feeling numb with every step he took toward his desk. It was a mess, one he’d never clean up. The drawers were messy too, but he knew where everything was.

The handle of the box cutter was plastic. It felt like a toy. His mouth laughed.

Blood didn’t mix well with white clothes. He knew that. He’d scrubbed at the stain dozens of times before he’d given up and bleached away the spots of blood that should have been his own. His fingers shook as he undid the latches of his top and pulled away his scarf. He didn’t want to lose it, like a child’s blanket.

Unwrapping his bandages stung, pulling away dried blood gluing it on. But that was okay. It was okay. Just a simple transfer. Like from one hand to the other. He’d been dealing with cuts and bruises his whole life. It was easier.

He shivered. Maybe it was because he was half naked, but he was sure his room was even colder than before.

 

A while later, as he was lying in a haze on his bed, Momota came by to ring the doorbell and ask if he was okay. He considered himself to be good at pretending, but even so, he didn’t trust his voice to respond.

Instead, he said nothing as Momota rang a few more times and left. Instead, he lay still and breathed in the scent of blood through his nose.

Blood smelled metallic, stronger and overpowering enough to taste, and Kokichi wished it was a little stronger. It was better than the sickly-sweet undertones that seemed to linger in the air even longer. Like it was rotten. That made sense, that his blood would smell that way.

Kokichi looked up in the general direction of his ceiling and giggled until his eyes watered.


	8. In Which Kaito and Kokichi eat lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making the words go is hard ;;;; but I'm doing my bestest
> 
> Warning: Every time Iruma and Ouma interact I die a little bit inside. My vulgarness tolerance must be too low

Kaito rang Ouma’s bell a few times, hoping to get some kind of response, but there was only silence. Worry had wormed its way into his gut. Ouma had taken off so suddenly and he’d looked kind of unwell, or maybe stressed. It was concerning.

He eventually gave up for the time being. There wasn’t much he could do besides hope that Ouma was okay, and he hated that. He’d always felt so in control of his own life, pushing to achieve his dreams even with the barrier of his age, but there was no way for him to have that kind of control over someone else’s life. If Ouma continued to push him away, then would Kaito be able to help at all? For the first time he could remember, Kaito felt helpless.

No, no he wasn’t going to think like that. He was Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars who would one day be famous all over the world. The next Neil Armstrong! He wasn’t going to let some door, physical or metaphorical, stop him.

But despite that, he couldn’t make Ouma come out of his room, or even know if the other boy was in there. So for the time being, he abandoned his mission. No, not abandoned. He would find a way to help Ouma.

But still, the thought rang in the back of his head. _What if Ouma kills himself before you can do anything?_

Kaito ignored the chills running down his spine and pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

 

He’d forgotten about his telescope, which still made a rattling sound when he picked it up. Well, now was as good a time as any to get it fixed.

The workshop of Hope’s Peak was pretty large, so he asked some pink-haired guy for help finding Iruma. She was in the back, working away on some machine that he couldn’t even begin to make sense of. Sure, he could understand the technology used by astronauts, but he wasn’t exactly a mechanics master.

Iruma looked up at him as he walked up. “Wha’dya want, Moron-ta? I’m busy!”

It was the expected response. Kaito sighed, ignoring the nickname, and held out his telescope bag. “Hey, do you think you could fix this at some point?”

She cocked her head at him. “And what’s in it for me? Do you know how fucking valuable my brains are, huh? Every second I waste talking to you marks a delay in the development of mankind!”

Well, that was also expected. “I mean, we’re friends, so we should help each other out from time to time, you know?”

Iruma’s facial expression went from pissed to contemplative. “Wow, that’s not the dumbest thing Moron-ta has ever said.”

And now he felt like he was listening to Ouma again. But he didn’t really feel the need to retort back against Iruma. That was just how she was.

“So you gotta do something for me too, got it!”

Kaito begrudgingly allowed himself to be used as a test subject for one of Iruma’s nutty inventions and hightailed it out of there as fast as he could the moment said tests was over, red in the face.

 

Kaito lay on his back, looking up at the night sky. The only stars he could see were dim and muted, but it was still a nice sight.

Beside him, Saihara panted as he finished the last of his sit-ups. Kaito was already done, though he might have skipped a couple, and Harukawa had been done in minutes. She’d stuck around, however, pulling at one of her twintails as she waited for the boys to complete their workout.

“Man, it sure is a nice night, huh?”

Harukawa shrugged. “I guess.” It was a typical response, but then she spoke again. “Where have you been lately?”

Kaito paused for a second. Harukawa’s distain for Ouma was no secret, and he doubted that she would be happy that he’d been hanging out with the boy. But Kaito would never lie to his sidekicks. Maybe he could bring Ouma along to training at some point and the two could learn to get along, but that might be for another day. He suspected that there was no chance Ouma would train with them.

“I’ve been spending time with Ouma,” he said simply.

Harukawa’s face soured. “Really? _That_ guy.” She spit the words out as if they tasted foul.

Saihara looked between the two of them, eyes wide, and Kaito suspected that he feared being caught in the middle of an argument.

“He’s not a bad guy. Really!” Kaito said. He wasn’t quite sure where the urge to defend Ouma had come from, but…

_“You do hate me, after all.”_

He wondered how it must feel, to be hated so much. His gut twisted, he’d said plenty of unkind things about Ouma as well, things that Ouma apparently remembered far better than he did. Were those things the reason he had tried to kill himself? Were they a factor?

Harukawa turned away. “Do what you want, I don’t care. But you look…sort of tired. Don’t let that brat wear you out too much.”

Tired? Kaito thought for a moment. He did feel tired, sort of drained.

Had he exercised too much? Yeah, that had to be it.

But Kaito knew better, deep down. He was used to physical tiredness, and this wasn’t it.

 

Dying seemed highly preferable to leaving his bed, but there was school that day. Sure, he could skip, but Momota would just get more worried.

Not that he cared what Momota thought. Kokichi just wanted him to go away and leave him alone, and if he got all worried or whatever then that was inconvenient.

And, speak of the devil, Momota chose that moment to start ringing his bell again. Kokichi knew it was him, nobody else felt the need to press the thing a million times.

He dragged himself out of bed. “Yeah, yeah, Momota-chan! Give me a chance to get ready, alright?”

“Okay, but it’s almost class time,” was the other’s reply. Great, apparently he’d been lying there longer than he’d thought.

“I’m skipping!” Well, that was one decision made for him. And he could always prance in late claiming he was lying.

Momota didn’t keep bothering him, which was good. There was no reason he should care if Kokichi didn’t come to class. No reason he should concern himself with Kokichi’s wellbeing, he _was_ supposed to not bother Kokichi over his near-suicide anyway.

Well, he was out of bed now, so he might as well get dressed and cleaned up. He’d put on fresh bandages last night, but they’d bled through, so he’d have to change those as well. And probably wash his sheets, but that could come later, nobody ever came in his room besides him anyhow.

So he mechanically went through his morning routine, only glancing once in the mirror to see if he looked decent. He didn’t, but a little smile here and there could fix that. Plus a little concealer for the dark circles under his eyes and the purple bruise blossoming on his cheek where Momota had punched him.

Finally satisfied that he could keep up his façade, he strolled out of his room with all the authority in the world.

 

Kaito’s thoughts returned to Ouma’s behavior the day before. What had caused it?

He went back through what he had said. He’d talked about them both enjoying their time together. Was there something weird about that? He didn’t think so, but Ouma was always good at picking out the undertones in what people said. Maybe he’d taken that as some sort of weird confession. Though that didn’t make much sense, there was nothing inherently romantic about two guys enjoying themselves together.

Well okay, maybe if he said it like that…

Kaito groaned, placing his head in his hands, and at that moment, the door swung open and Ouma walked in.

Iruma, who was busy demonstrating to Kaito’s classmates the new functions she’d given Kiibo in the most inappropriate terminology possible, squeaked as he entered.

“Aww man, I wouldn’t have come if I knew this whore was gonna fuck Keeboy in front of the whole class!”

Iruma moaned, Kiibo began a tirade on how inappropriate Ouma was being, which was quickly joined by Chasbashira, and Ouma stood in the middle of it, looking pleased with himself.

Okay, he was probably fine. Once again, Kaito felt himself sighing with relief.

 

Eventually, lunch arrived, and before Ouma could take off, Kaito once again approached his seat.

“Hey, man! You wanna eat lunch together?”

He should’ve known he would get teased for that as Ouma batted his eyes. “Ooooh, is Momota-chan bringing her cool and mysterious sempai a bento box? How charming!”

“We’re the same age, cut that out. And yeah, I did bring you lunch.”

Tojo had taken it upon herself at the beginning of the year to make a lunch for anyone who asked for one, personally customized to their tastes. Kaito personally enjoyed them, but he’d never seen Ouma with one. Maybe he didn’t eat lunch, apparently Harukawa hadn’t either until he’d expressed his worry over her.

Ouma blinked at him, for once seeming unsure of how to respond. Momota took that opportunity and ran with it. He held out one of his two boxed lunches for Ouma.

“Nishishi, you really are like a schoolgirl!” Ouma snatched the lunch out of his hand with a “yoink” and immediately took off down the hall.

Damn, why was he so fast? Kaito took off after him.

Apparently, Ouma wasn’t expecting him to follow, because he found him not too far away, sitting at a desk in an empty classroom, staring at the box with a pensive look. It wasn’t a scene that seemed very fitting for Ouma, so Kaito cleared his throat.

Ouma’s head shot up. “Oh, you decided to join me. I’ve just been contemplating whether or not you would try to poison me.”

“W-why would I try to—never mind.” He should probably stop rising to Ouma’s provocations. He took a seat at the desk next to Ouma, scooting it to the side so the desks were together. If Ouma minded, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he fiddled with the cloth wrap around the box.

“So, like, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but are you okay? I mean, you didn’t seem so great yesterday.”

Ouma fiddled in silence for a moment longer, before he smirked up at Kaito. “Hmm, I think I’ll use my right to remain silent.”

It was to be expected, but Kaito couldn’t help but feel a bit disheartened. He wondered if Ouma would ever warm up to him.

The two of them opened their lunches, Kaito with far more gusto than Ouma. The food was delicious, and Kaito finished his quickly while Ouma ate a bit slower.

He felt something hit him in the side of the face. “Hey!”

Ouma smiled cheekily and flicked another grain of rice at Kaito’s head.

“Cut it out, Tojo worked hard on that!”

“Yeah, but if I eat it it’ll be gone away, so I don’t see why it matters.” Ouma did take a small bite of his rice though. Kaito thought back to that night on the roof and just how light Ouma had been when he’d pulled him up. He really could stand to eat more.

Ouma was uncharacteristically silent, only pepping up when it seemed he’d been quiet for too long. Even so, he still kept his face fixed in a phony smile. It was clearly meant to look mischievous, but the more Kaito looked at him out of the corner of his eye, the more unnerving it looked. Not in the way he had looked before, downright sinister, but more that it was uncomfortable to see such a fake look on anybody’s face.

He tried to think back to all the times he’d seen Ouma smile in the past. How many of those were fake? How many were real?

Probably not many. If Ouma was truly happy, he most likely wouldn’t have tried to kill himself.

How much pain must Ouma be in to reach such a point? Had that pain been with him all along, underneath his mask? Kaito didn’t know. He was no expert on mental health.

“Hey, Ouma?”

“Mmh?” Ouma was halfway through a bite of cake. Apparently, he really did like sweet things.

“Do you wanna ditch class today? Come hang out in my room!”

Ouma looked at him in annoyance, probably wanting to comment on that when his mouth was no longer full. However, in the time it took for him to finish his bite, he apparently dropped whatever quip he’d wanted to make.

“Fine! But Momota-chan better keep me entertained.”

Kaito was taken aback. He hadn’t expected Ouma to agree so readily.

Maybe, just maybe, Ouma was warming up to him. It was a stretch especially after yesterday, but Kaito decided he would take it.


	9. In Which Kaito paints a room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here comes the next chapter. I've been pretty busy but I hope I can get the next one out soon! 
> 
> [Please check out the amazing art that my friend Grape-chan did for this fic! It's so good!!](https://baka-grape-chan.tumblr.com/post/174768169630/look-my-beloved-althaea-san-i-did-it)

“Momota-chan sucks at this game!”

“I do not!”

Kaito furiously mashed the buttons on the controller, to little avail. It was hard to think of a viable tactic when Ouma was so damn fast. But then again, his strategies usually consisted of button mashing anyway.

The two of them were seated on Kaito’s bed in front of a smallish TV, playing a fighting game. Ouma had chosen some clunky-looking wind-up robot, but for some reason, he still managed to press buttons with such accuracy and speed that Kaito barely stood a chance.

That being said, it was pretty fun to play against someone who posed such a challenge. Like fighting an especially difficult final boss.

A boss with a lot of different taunt options.

“Catch me, Momota-chan!” Ouma’s character spun around in midair and smacked Kaito’s over the head.

In the first five matches, Kaito lost miserably.

But then, the sixth match ended with a near win for Kaito. He won the seventh. And the eighth and ninth.

Hell yeah! Ouma’s playing speed had slowed down significantly, and when Kaito glanced over at him, he saw a frustrated look on the other boy’s face as he tried to press the buttons as quickly as possible.

Maybe it was time to stop.

“Aww!” Ouma whined when Kaito turned the game off, pouting. “Even though I let you win, I thought you would at least let me have the last victory. Number ten, you know.”

Kaito didn’t think that Ouma would let anyone win, but he decided against mentioning it. Ouma set the controller aside, shaking his hands out with a wince. He must have  gotten tired.

He leapt off of Kaito’s bed. “Well, that’s all for today! Maybe if you keep trying, you’ll reach rank five with me!”

Was that an invitation for them to hang out again?

When they’d first started playing, Ouma had, in his earnest determination, looked genuinely happy.

 

The next day was Sunday, so there were no classes to even consider attending. This time, however, Ouma was the one to show up first at Kaito’s door, struggling to hold up two cans of paint, with another one at his feet. For the first time since Kaito had met him, he was wearing something other than his signature uniform, a brown, standard-issue Hope’s Peak sweater that didn’t quite seem to fit with Ouma’s personality.

It wasn’t a sight that Kaito was expecting.

“What’s all this for?”

Ouma finally gave up and dropped the cans to the floor. “Well, I was gonna sneak in and paint a giant dick on your wall, but you’re inside. What a bummer.”

“If you were gonna sneak in, why did you ring the bell?”

Ouma nudged one of the cans with his foot. “Anyway, carry these for me. I already had to drag them this far, so it’s only fair.”

Kaito was skeptical as to why Ouma wanted to bring paint cans into his room to begin with, but he obliged. To be fair, they were pretty heavy, and Ouma didn’t look very strong.

“So, what is this actually for?” He read the label on one of the cans. “Prussian Blue”. He didn’t know all these fancy paint names.

“Like I said, it’s for--!”

“Cut that out!” He looked at the other cans. “Magenta” and “Titanium White”. Why had Ouma picked these colors?

Ouma pried open the blue paint can with a screwdriver, and the color inside remained Kaito of the night sky.

Wait a minute.

“Are-are we going to paint my walls to look like space?” It seemed baffling for Ouma to come up with such a thing. Would he really go out of his way to help Kaito decorate a room, even when he’d been so opposed to even interacting with Kaito earlier? It didn’t make sense.

“Hmm, I guess we can do that, but it’s so much lamer than my idea.”

Well, that was more classic Ouma.

They covered the furniture and floors with cloth that Ouma made Kaito run around to find. If this were any other school, they’d be in so much trouble, but it was Hope’s Peak. The staff would probably applaud Kaito’s dedication to his talent.

Ouma did not paint any dicks on his walls, to Kaito’s relief. In fact, Kaito ended up doing most of the painting while Ouma criticized his work, rolling around on the bed.

Well, he couldn’t really complain, as it was his room.

The end result was something that would probably horrify someone like Angie, but Kaito did like the way it came out, despite its sloppiness. Ouma was more interested in flicking white paint onto the wall to create stars. He’d ended up getting paint on his sweater and face, which was kind of funny looking. And also kind of cute.

Okay, that was road Kaito was not prepared to go down. So he moved on to another topic.

“But seriously, though. Why did you decide to do this?” he asked.

Ouma opened his mouth instantly, as if prepared to give another pre-planned answer. But instead, his face grew a bit pensive.

“Well, it’s super boring on the weekends you know! I didn’t wanna just hang out in my room all day!”

Kaito blinked. It seemed like an answer that contained a lot of information, though Kaito couldn’t quite make sense of it. Was it just because he was bored? Or was he lonely?

Kaito didn’t ask. He doubted he would get an honest answer anyway.

 

After class on Monday, the two of them returned to Kaito’s room, which smelled a bit like chemicals now. Maybe it would end up as some sort of routine, them hanging out together after classes.

Ouma took a moment to inspect the now fully dried wall. “Wow, it looks hideous. Mine are the only decent parts.”

“Hey, I did most of the work you know!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ouma took a seat on Kaito’s bed. “It really smells in here, though.”

“Well, yeah, I mean paint smells like that.”

“No, I meant the smell of Momota-chan!” Ouma hopped up from the bed, seemingly interested in something else. He approached the pile of paint-stained sheets from yesterday. “Why are these still here? That’s pretty lazy.”

Before Kaito could say anything else, he threw one of the sheets over his head. “Look, it’s a ghost! WooOOOooo!”

“Don’t mock me!” Kaito pulled at the sheet and Ouma pulled back, whining all the while about what a scaredy-cat Kaito was, before he finally let go and sent Kaito tumbling to the floor.

“Hey!” Kaito pulled off the sheet that had fallen onto his head as Ouma giggled above him. Well, okay, it probably looked a little funny.

He stared down at the sheet in his hands, suddenly struck by an idea. “Hey, Ouma?”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s build a blanket fort!”

Ouma blinked at him for a moment, and Kaito expected him to start laughing at any second. But instead, he put a finger to his chin, as if in thought. “It’s that a pretty childish thing to do at our age?”

Yeah, that was probably the expected response, but Kaito couldn’t help but feel a bit let down. He’d always loved the idea of building forts again, the way he had as a kid. He’d always ended up bringing his grandparents inside, though they could never stay in there long without their backs hurting. They taught him how to make shadow puppets with a flashlight.

It was a nice memory.

He was about to tell Ouma to forget it when he felt another sheet hit his face. “What?”

Ouma stood over him impatiently. “Well, are we gonna do it or not?” He clenched his fists with the look of a determined child. “Come on, you have to work to, you know!”

Kaito couldn’t keep himself from beaming, even after Ouma told him how gross that was.

They built the fort along the back of Kaito’s bed and attached the other end to a desk chair, keeping the sheets propped up with the spare pillows provided by the dorm, as Ouma had refused to touch “Momota-chan’s icky dandruff pillows”. Their creation was pretty crude and the plain white sheets didn’t block out much light, so Kaito turned out the lights and brought a flashlight into the fort.

It was pretty nostalgic, lying down in the fort with his legs sticking out. It was too small to fit both of them, at their age. Well, maybe it could fit Ouma, but the other boy had chosen to prop himself up on his elbows, his legs outside the sheet covering as well.

Kaito brought dinner, made by Tojo of course, for them to eat in the fort, though Ouma complained about poison a bunch anyway. It was pretty late, by that time, but with the lengthening days, the sun was still out. Which was a shame, because Kaito loved the night sky, but he also had his very own night sky in his room now, thanks to Ouma.

He hadn’t said that to him though, had he?

“Hey, Ouma?”

Ouma flicked some rice at Kaito. “Huh?”

“Thank you. For helping me paint my room. That was pretty cool, you know.”

“Eh, it’s whatever.” Ouma shrugged.

Kaito smiled at him anyway. “Well, I think it’s pretty cool.”

The other boy didn’t respond to that.


	10. In Which Kaito sleeps in a fort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Kokichi!! C: How could I not post a chapter for his birthday.  
> Anyway, this one's pretty short and sweet, hope you enjoy.

Ouma had a GameGirl in his room, and the two of them took turns playing some more old school games, just to add to the nostalgic feel of the fort. While Kaito played, Ouma looked over his shoulder and criticized all his moves until Kaito relented and gave the game back to him.

It wasn’t long before it grew dark out, which must have meant it was pretty late. Ouma used the flashlight to illuminate his face.

“Okay, now it’s time for scary stories!”

“No it’s not!” Kaito replied a little too quickly and Ouma smirked at him. “…because I’ve got an even better idea!”

He ducked out of the fort for a moment, searching for an alternative to whatever nightmare fuel Ouma could produce, and settled upon the Home Planet that his grandparents have given him as a present for being accepted to Hope’s Peak. It was pretty cool.

He grabbed it and wiggled back into the fort, triumphantly presenting the machine to Ouma, who looked at it with skepticism.

“What’s that?”

“Watch!” was all Kaito said as he flicked it on.

The narration was turned off, so the machine was completely silent, but it lit up the tiny space in a burst of color, shining the cosmos onto the walls of the fort.

He half-expected Ouma to make fun of it or something, but instead, Ouma lay still, staring up at the projection. Maybe it was just the stars reflecting in his eyes, but he looked genuinely mesmerized by the sight.

Okay, that was definitely cute.

That was probably a weird thing to think. Kaito wasn’t gay, at least he didn’t think so. Well, it was true that he’d never had a girlfriend or anything, but that was because he was busy with his astronaut work. And he’d had a crush on some girl back in elementary school, though he didn’t remember her name. Or at least, he thought he had a crush. He’d asked her to be her girlfriend, which at the time he thought meant that they could hold hands, and so that’s what he did until one of the other boys told him that that’s how babies were made and then he stopped.

Well, in retrospect, maybe that wasn’t the best indication of his sexuality. But it wasn’t like he’d ever had a crush on a boy. Or was this a crush? He didn’t know.

Kaito, deciding that he didn’t want to have an internal debate at that time, smacked his cheeks and calmed himself down.

He played the video game for a little while to distract himself while Ouma messed around with the Home Planet’s settings.

After a little while, when Ouma had been silent for quite a while, Kaito looked to his side to see him curled around one of the pillows, seemingly asleep.

Kaito stared. Ouma looked so different when he was asleep. Small and fragile were terms that Kaito wouldn’t dare apply to a conscious Ouma, but now he really did look that way. From this distance, the dark circles under his eyes were more clearly visible, as well as the pallor of his skin. How had Kaito not noticed that before?

Maybe it was something he could only hide when he was awake.

Ouma twitched, his face contorting into a frown, and Kaito mirrored his expression as Ouma’s breathing increased in speed. Was he having a nightmare? What was Kaito supposed to do?

Ouma wrapped his arms around the pillow, trembling, and Kaito felt as though he’d intruded on something he wasn’t meant to see. It felt like a violation of Ouma’s privacy.

Kaito poked him gently and whispered. “Hey, are you okay?”

Ouma didn’t wake up, and when Kaito reached to shake him awake, he latched onto the astronaut’s arm with a strength Kaito didn’t know a sleeping person could have.

He didn’t let go, opting instead to wriggle closer to Kaito, clearly still asleep. Kaito wasn’t sure what to do, but as Ouma lay huddled against him, he seemed to calm down a little, his breathing growing steady, and that was enough of a reason for Kaito to stay. Besides, Ouma probably needed the sleep.

Ouma sniffled, and when Kaito looked at his face, he saw it was streaked with tears.

Kaito wasn’t sure if he was seeing a picture of the true Ouma, but for the first time, Kaito felt like he’d seen the face of the boy who’d tried to jump from that roof.

Not completely sure what to do, and feeling a bit awkward, Kaito reached his other arm across and rubbed Ouma’s head gently. Apparently, that worked, and Ouma’s body relaxed as he lay huddled against his chest.

It wasn’t a completely uncomfortable position, although his arm was growing a bit stiff, so Kaito relaxed as well, settling in on the floor of his room until he finally managed to get to sleep.


	11. In Which Mistakes are Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, it's been a little longer than I would like since last chapter. But I've been busy. Really busy, way too busy to write :q ! But it's only been a bit over a week, so that's not too bad, I think. Anyway, the wait for the next one might be a little long as well, since I'm still pretty busy. Bear with me, please!

Was this how binge-drinkers felt when waking up after a long night of drunken antics and regrettable decisions?

Kokichi wouldn’t know. Even if he were old enough to drink, he’d have no interest in doing so. Being drunk seemed a little too close to being emotionally vulnerable for his taste.

Speaking of which, he was certainly vulnerable now, curled around Momota’s arm on the bedroom floor. He could’ve kicked himself. He’d only had one rule to follow and there was no reason for him to have broken it so easily. But no, he’d gone and fallen asleep in Momota’s room, which was the worst because it wasn’t like he could lie when he was asleep. And on top of that, if their positions were any indication, he’d ended up clinging to Momota like some needy child.

Kokichi rubbed one of his eyes with the back of his hand. He did feel well-rested for once, so perhaps that could be considered a positive. It was true that he hadn’t sleep much in the past couple of days and he wasn’t sure why. No, that wasn’t quite true. He knew why, it was his room. All it had taken was one day of playing video games in Momota’s open and inviting dorm room for his own to feel like a prison. The rooms were the same layout-wise, Kokichi knew that, but for some reason his room had begun to feel cramped and cold in comparison, like some sort of spirit had taken up residence within it. The discontent had brewed inside of him even as he tossed and turned, trying to get to sleep.

Well, Kokichi supposed that the grass was always greener or something like that. Whatever it was, it was a mark of his own weakness. He wasn’t supposed to get used to hanging out with Momota and he certainly wasn’t supposed to get used to spending time in his room.

Which brought him back to his current predicament, which he needed to get out of as quickly as he could.

Even so, Kokichi hesitated. Momota was warm and his steady presence and breathing calmed Kokichi. He was snoring slightly, but the sound didn’t bother Kokichi. It reminded him of days spent crammed into a hotel room with the rest of DICE. He wouldn’t mind staying that way for a little while longer, really. Maybe he could wait until Momota started to wake up to detach himself.

But it quickly became awkward watching him sleep, and so Kokichi yanked himself away and rolled backwards out of the fort.

“Hmmm, wuhhh…” Momota mumbled drowsily, rubbing at his face. Now was the time to make a scene.

“Wow, I never knew you were such a pervert, Momota-chan! You shouldn’t get so intimate with someone when they’re asleep, you know!” Kokichi chortled.

Momota took a minute to process Kokichi’s words, and when he did, he hauled himself up. “Wha’dya mean! You’re the one who grabbed me!”

Oh great, that was even more embarrassing. It was time to make his escape.

Before he could open the door however, he heard the sound of the bell ringing.

“Who’s there?” Momota yelled from the floor, seemingly on impulse.

“It’s Harukawa.”

And the day just kept getting better. Kokichi put his carefully honed escape skills to work and vaulted over the bed, opened the window, and leapt out with a flourish, sparing only a passing glance in Momota’s direction. The dorm was on the first floor, so it was no trouble to somersault forward and land on the soft grass below.

He crouched down beneath the windowsill, always eager to listen in on a few conversations, especially if it meant he could get a leg up on Harukawa.

He heard the sound of footsteps and what must be Momota opening the door.

 

“You’re a mess,” was the first thing Harukawa said to Kaito as he opened the door. Damn, she was probably right, he had slept on the floor after all.

“Yeah, I know.” He rubbed at his messed-up hair. “So what’s going on?”

Harukawa frowned, tugging on her ribbon. “Saihara asked me to check up on you. Since you weren’t at training last night.”

Kaito froze, hand on his head. He mentally counted the days. The three of them worked out together every other night and sure enough, last night had been a training day.

His heart sank. It was true that their training routine hadn’t been going on for very long, but it wasn’t something to just forget about. Kaito liked to consider himself the kind of person to never neglect his friends and he was sure this mistake would weigh on him.

“I’m sorry Harumaki.” Her face twitched when he called her by the nickname. “I forgot about it, I really did. It’s my bad.”

Harukawa seemed to accept the explanation, though. “Ok. It doesn’t matter.” The tone of her voice said that it did, and that only made Kaito feel worse.

“You know what, let’s hang out together today! Classes can wait.”

Harukawa looked skeptical, but she nodded. “Fine, I don’t mind.” She paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder. “What happened to your room?”

“You mean the walls? Do you like ‘em!” He decided to leave out the part where he and Ouma had painted them together. Not to lie, but he knew that Harukawa wasn’t exactly Ouma’s biggest fan, so no reason to bring It up. Plus, from Ouma’s sudden exit, Kaito guessed that the other didn’t want her to know he was there.

“It looks kind of sloppy. But if you like it then it’s good, I guess.”

Kaito was ready to move on from this topic. “So, where do you wanna go? Oh, we should ask Saihara too!”

“He might not want to come, you know. Since we’re missing class.”

“Yeah, but there’s no harm in asking.” Kaito stepped out of his room, closing it behind him. The  window was still open, but it would probably be fine.

The two of them found Saihara halfway to class and invited him along on their escapade. To Kaito’s surprise, he agreed, and also asked the obvious question that both Kaito and Harukawa had forgotten to ask.

“Where are we going?”

Kaito and Harukawa glanced at each other silently.

“I’ll go wherever, it doesn’t matter to me,” Harukawa said.

“No, that’s no good! You’ve gotta have some place you’d like to go. What about you, Saihara?”

Saihara shifted nervously. “I’m fine with whatever.”

To both of their surprise, Harukawa took charge of the discussion and spoke.

“A park. That works, right?”

“It’s fine by me,” Saihara said.                                           

“Great, let’s go!”

Harukawa opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, before sighing. “Fine.”

 

The three of them ended up in Ueno, gazing out over the large pond. It was pretty empty, in the middle of a Monday afternoon with only a few tourists and younger kids on their summer vacation. Saihara leaned on the railing, watching the water and the small family of ducks floating around on the surface and a moment later Harukawa joined him.

Kaito, meanwhile, was more interested in the paddleboats. There were only a few on the water, and since the day was pretty warm, he thought such an idea seemed nice.

“You wanna rent one?” He asked, and the two of them looked up, confused for a second.

“Do you think they’re seat three people?” Saihara asked while Harukawa stayed silent.

“Only one way to find out!”

Neither Saihara nor Harukawa were normally inclined to take charge, so Kaito ended up leading the two of them over to the paddleboat station.

It was nice, once they got out on the water, and quiet too. Kaito chattered a bit about mundane things, asking both of them about their day and such, to which he got fairly terse answers from Harukawa and slightly nervous ones from Saihara, but that was expected. Even though the two of them were opening up, it was a slow process and he understood that. At least, he hoped that he did.

After a brief moment of silence, Harukawa was the one to start talking.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Huh?”

Harukawa gave him a look. “You’ve been pretty distracted lately, and I haven’t seen you around. Usually you’re so loud that it’s hard to miss you.”

Kaito decided to ignore the backhanded remark. “Yeah, well, it’s a bit complicated. I’ve been hanging out with Ouma lately.” He didn’t like the idea of outright lying to his sidekicks, despite the animosity between Harukawa and Ouma.

Saihara, seated in the back of the boat, seemed to shrink away from the conversation.

The reaction was about what he’d expected. “You’re really still hanging out with him _?_ ”

“He’s not that bad, really. Once you get to know him.”

Harukawa’s face was still fixed in a pout. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Geez.” Kaito rubbed the back of his hand. It was a bit frustrating to hear her talk about his other sidekick like that, though he knew Ouma would likely say the same about her. “I wish you wouldn’t be at each other’s throats so much. I’ll bet you have a lot in common, so if you just talked, maybe you could get along.”

Though, maybe it was precisely _because_ they had so much in common that they didn’t get along.

“I doubt that,” Harukawa said with an air of finality about it. “But are you really going to spend all your time with him? There’s plenty of better things to do with your time.”

From her tone, Kaito assumed she must be jealous. “Look, it’s not that I don’t have time to spend with both of you. I just forgot about training, it won’t happen again.”

Harukawa huffed slightly and to Kaito’s surprise, Saihara spoke up this time.

“It’s not that I don’t think you have time for everyone, but…” He fiddled with the brow of his cap.

“But what?”

“Well, it’s sort of like,” Saihara fumbled for the right words. “like you’re overexerting yourself, maybe. You’re trying to take on everyone’s burdens, that can’t be easy.”

“Wha’dya mean? Do you really think I can’t help you guys? Ouma?”

Saihara flinched, and Kaito realized too late that he’d raised him voice a bit too much. His feet rested on the pedals, Harukawa had taken over paddling by herself.

“It’s not that. But you can’t shoulder everyone’s burdens all by yourself. If you need help too, or if you can’t do everything alone, then I think that’s alright too.”

Kaito rested an elbow on the side of the boat thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure if he entirely understood what Saihara was saying, but maybe it was related to the feeling of tiredness that had seeped into him.

He frowned. He wasn’t struggling like his sidekicks were, so why would he need help himself?

He put the thought to the side and the rest of the day went smoothly.


	12. In Which Kokichi hides again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! I've been super busy with a lot of stuff. But now that stuff is done, so I'll have more time to write! :) Sorry for the wait!

Kokichi slid down the wall of the dorm, resting the back of his head against the window frame. Momota was gone, off with Harukawa and Saihara, probably, and that was how it should be.

It was a wake-up call, a reminder of how selfish he’d become. Because Momota was too kind-hearted to push Kokichi away when he knew he was struggling. And Kokichi had taken advantage of that, had latched onto him for a taste of the happiness and comfort he didn’t deserve.

He’d expected Momota to give up sooner, to realize there was nothing redeemable or likeable about him and move on. And then Kokichi could finally sever whatever remaining ties he had to this world and die the way he was supposed to. But instead he’d gotten clingy and forced Momota to stay with him.

He shouldn’t be with Kokichi. Harukawa was terrible and wouldn’t hesitate to kill Momota if ordered to, but he was even worse. Every moment that Momota forced himself to spend with Kokichi would slowly eat away at him, because that was just how Kokichi was. Wasn’t there a saying about one bad apple spoiling the whole bunch? As long as he stayed here at this school, he would only damage those he got close to and annoy all the rest.

So why was he here?

He pulled his knees up to his chest, feeling pathetic. Sitting around moping in the grass in self-pity was just another point to add to the list of reasons he sucked.

He might have sat there for the rest of the day had he not been interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

Kokichi knew who it was immediately, because nobody else tromped around the Hope’s Peak campus barefoot.

“Is Ouma-kun okay?”

Kokichi gritted his teeth, drawing a line in the soft dirt next to him. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone right now, but at least Gonta was easy enough to fool. He didn’t need any sort of perfect mask to hide behind, even a shoddy one would do.

“Noooo, I’m not!” Kokichi rocked back and forth dramatically.  “The school store ran out of my favorite soda! Isn’t that tragic? Now I’ll have to go thirsty.”

“Oh.” Gonta blinked at him. “Gonta’s sorry about that. Gonta hopes that there’s more soda soon for Ouma-kun.”

Kokichi didn’t respond at first. But there was something eating away at him that he had to ask, no matter how paranoid it might seem.

“Did Akamatsu-chan send you?”

“Huh? No? Why would Akamatsu-san do that?” Gonta seemed confused and it was easy enough for Kokichi to believe that he was being genuine. Gonta was not a liar, not like him.

No, that wasn’t true. Everyone was a liar, at least in some way. Even if only in little white lies like praising a poor meal or outfit. Or pretending to like an unpleasant person.

“Oh!” Gonta snapped Kokichi out of his thoughts. “Would Ouma-kun like to see Gonta’s butterflies?”

Kokichi didn’t have time to think of an excuse before Gonta whipped out his insect cage. Well, as far as bugs went, butterflies ranked pretty low on the scale of unpleasantness. As long as Gonta didn’t pull out anything weirder. Like that poisonous centipede from a few weeks ago.

He nodded along to Gonta’s explanation of the butterfly and made his escape when Gonta finished with a half-assed excuse about “Supreme Leader duties”.

He only let his shoulders fall and his smile drop when he shut the door of his room behind him. He breathed in the heavy air.

Really, maybe he was the one haunting it.                                                     

 

He didn’t see Momota again that day, which was for the best. Nor did he go to class the next day, unwilling to face Momota. Instead, he spent the day in his room, mindlessly playing some old-school game until his self-loathing bubbled over, and he fished the box cutter out of his desk drawer again.

Momota came knocking anyway later on, calling to Kokichi in an increasingly frantic voice until he had no choice but to respond.

“Hey, Momota-chan! Do you miss me that much?” Simple enough to roll off his tongue, and without a face to cover up it was that much easier.

Momota didn’t go away though, infuriatingly. “You wanna hang out?”

Kokichi groaned internally even as he kept his voice teasing. “Now, now, I have responsibilities too, you know? I can’t spend all my time hanging out with my beloved Momota-chan.”

_Go away._

“You doing okay?” When did Momota get so persistent? No, never mind, he was always persistent.

“Yep, no need to worry!” It came out a little too cheerful, and Kokichi cursed to himself as Momota went silent for a moment. He’d begun to see the downsides to being a liar, when he needed someone to believe his lies.

“I mean, it’s just that you weren’t in class and I haven’t seen you around. Seriously, are you okay?”

_No_.

“Yes, geez, you’re way too clingy! Go away!” _Go away before I destroy your life too._

Maybe he should have been harsher. Maybe he should’ve said terrible, terrible things until Momota hated him the way he should. He wanted Momota to hate him, he _needed_ Momota to hate him. He wanted, he wanted…

He wanted Momota to hold him, to protect him. He wanted Momota to tell him everything would be okay. He wanted Momota to actually care about him, the way DICE had cared for him, and he wanted things to go right this time. He wanted to be happy, even if he didn’t deserve it.

He wanted to be saved.

How pitiful had he become?

His lower lip trembled and he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, scrunching his eyes closed. Momota still kept talking.

“Tojo said you didn’t come to the cafeteria today or yesterday, so I brought you some food. You should eat, you know.”

That was even worse. He couldn’t face Momota now, on the verge of tears, in a crumpled shirt and smelling of blood. But refusing to eat would raise red flags of its own. He didn’t want to eat though, he wasn’t hungry, and the thought of choking down some food that he couldn’t manage to enjoy made him feel nauseous.

“Leave it outside, I don’t wanna see your ugly face right now!” And that was even worse, the crack in his voice echoing in his ears, noticeable enough to alert Momota, surely.

Momota was silent for a bit, probably being all worried and stuff. “Okay, but please try to eat, okay?” God, why did he have to sound like that? So concerned over someone like him.

Kokichi held his breath and waited for Momota to leave before he let out the choked sobs that had filled his throat.


	13. In Which a door is opened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again with another chapter. I guess the updates have slowed down a bit (I was kind of overzealous about posting at first lolol) but don't worry, I'll definitely keep updating this story :) .

To Kaito’s concern, the food he had left by Ouma’s room was untouched by the next morning. He frowned at the box of Tojo’s cooking left on the floor. The other boy was thin enough as it was, he really could use a good meal.

He knocked and once again received no answer. Why was Ouma avoiding him again? He’d thought they’d actually managed to bridge the gap between them, but with Ouma, it was one step forward and two back. Hearing Ouma yell at him to go away left him with a sinking feeling in his gut, for more reasons than one.

He didn’t like being yelled at, especially by someone he’d come to consider a friend of sorts (was Ouma his friend? Kaito hoped so.) But Ouma had also sounded so distressed that Kaito couldn’t help but worry for him, locked up alone in his room and refusing to eat.

Even though Kaito had promised to not bring up what had happened before, Ouma had attempted suicide at least once, and he had no way of knowing if he’d try again. He hated the thought of being stuck out here, behind a locked door with no way to help Ouma or even know if he was okay.

Kaito knocked again, this time shouting through the door. “Hey, Ouma! Are you okay in there? Please answer me!”

At first, he got no reply and was about to consider knocking the door down right then and there. Then, he finally heard a response.

“Hey there, Momota-chan!” Ouma’s voice sounded tired, but Kaito could only feel relieved. “You sure do miss me, huh?”

He didn’t have a rebuttal. “I guess so.” Ouma went silent after that.

Kaito was about to try again when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Behind him stood Harukawa, looking exasperated.

“Are you really going to visit _him?_ It’s class time, you know.”

For as optimistic as he was, Kaito knew it was too much to expect for Harukawa and Ouma to start getting along all of a sudden. He was tempted to stay and try to get Ouma to come out, but he had promised to spend more time with his sidekicks, and bothering the other boy right now might do more harm than good.

So with one last long look at the door, Kaito left for class.

 

That night, Kaito took Saihara and Harukawa up to the roof again with his newly repaired telescope. He tried not to think of the events of a few weeks ago as he set it up on the ledge while his sidekicks stood behind him. It was a clear night, perfect for stargazing, and it would be even more perfect out away from the city, but this would do for now.

He looked through the lens, pinpointing Jupiter and zooming in on the fuzzy light until he got a clear view.

“You wanna take a look?”

Saihara looked through first, careful not to move the telescope, while Harukawa tapped her foot behind him. She was probably too stoic to admit her interest in the cosmos. Who wouldn’t be interested in seeing something so beautiful?

Saihara pulled away. “That’s really cool, Momota-kun!”

“Of course it is!”

At least he was able to help somebody.

But that wasn’t the right way to think. Making everyone else’s problems about himself.

 

Ouma wasn’t in class again the next day, so Kaito came to check on him after class, bringing more food with him. As far as Tojo knew, he hadn’t eaten anything for the past couple of days, which raised plenty of alarm bells. This time, Kaito wasn’t leaving until Ouma opened his door, and he said as much in between rings of the doorbells and knocks.

“Go away Momota-chan!”

“I won’t!” Kaito shouted back. “If you don’t come out, I’m gonna call someone to help!”

That did its job, and a minute later Kaito heard the click of the door lock.

Ouma didn’t look well at all. He seemed even paler than usual, though that could’ve been due to the dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes. His clothes were ruffled and his hair matched. He glared up at Kaito in annoyance.

Kaito expected Ouma to taunt him or yell about how he’d betrayed his trust, but instead he said, “You better not say anything.”

Kaito assumed Ouma didn’t want him commenting on his current condition. So instead he held out the boxed lunch. “You wanna eat?”

Ouma opened his mouth as if to protest, but the grumbling of his stomach cut him off. “…fine.”

That was a good sign. Kaito resisted the urge to beam at him, as that would probably come off as patronizing.

In the moment it took him to thing this through, Ouma had already plastered a smile on his face, though it looked even more strained than usual. “Well, let’s go to Momota-chan’s room! Since I helped to paint it, it’s partially my room!”

Kaito spluttered, but didn’t deny it. It wouldn’t have mattered, as Ouma had already walked off in the direction of Kaito’s dorm room, swaying back and forth slightly as he walked. Which was definitely not good, when was the last time he’d slept? Or eaten? Hopefully he’d at least drunk water.

Ouma made himself at home on Kaito’s bed, careful not to disturb the fort that still remained in the room. He took small bites of Tojo’s egg and rice while Kaito rummaged through his stuff, until he found what he was looking for. He plopped down next to Ouma, triumphantly presenting his findings. “Ta-dah!”

Ouma looked up at him, chewing a bite of rice. Kaito was just glad to see him eating. “Mmh?”

“It’s a milk puzzle. For astronaut training and stuff. It’s pretty cool, wanna work on it together?”

Ouma took a moment to swallow his food, looking pensive, before he perked up and spoke.

“Wow, Momota-chan sure is stupid!”

“Wha-why?” Kaito said incredulously.

“Only a stupid person would spend so much time with a person they don’t even like. It would be one thing if you were a friendless loser, but you’ve got plenty of friends who would just love to hang out with you, right?”

Kaito froze for a moment. “Wait…but I do like you.”

Ouma smirked, but there was no weight behind it. “That’s a terrible lie, Momota-chan! You’re only making such an effort because you pity me or whatever. But you don’t need to do that! Go bother Saihara-chan and assassin-chan instead.”

Kaito stammered for a second, not sure what to think of Ouma’s words. He was always talking in circles. “That’s not true. I hang out with you because that’s what I wanna do! Plus, I’ve got time for all of you.”

Ouma placed his hands over his ears and hummed mockingly. “Lies, lies, lies! I hate lies, you know! At least make up an interesting lie.”

“Do you really believe that? That I’m only here out of pity?”

“Yep!” Ouma said cheerfully. “And that’s probably the option you want to go with, you know?” He put a finger to his lips, smiling sneakily. “Because you would be even more stupid if you actually liked me, you know?”

He took the momentary pause in the conversation to leap off Kaito’s bed, leaving his barely-touched meal behind. Kaito, on instinct, grabbed his arm, shouting.

“Wait a minute!”

Ouma spun his head around and gave Kaito the sinister look he hadn’t seen in a while. “Let go.”

Reluctantly, Kaito obliged, and Ouma snatched his arm back defensively, taking a few steps towards the door. It was only then that Kaito noticed the small red stain seeping through the sleeve of his shirt.

“Stop!” To Kaito’s surprise, Ouma did stop and Kaito got a better look at his sleeve. That was almost certainly blood. He glanced down at his own hand, noticing the tips of his fingers were smeared with a few drops.

“Are you hurt?” Maybe that was a stupid question, but it was all Kaito could think of to say.

Before Kaito could make out any of his facial expressions, Ouma tilted his head down and let his bangs fall over his eyes. He stepped backwards towards the door, his posture still defensive.

“Nope.” Normally, his response would be accompanied by a cheeky smile and a popped “p”. But instead, his voice was deadpan and his head still down.

Kaito frowned, opened his mouth and closed it again. It was clear that this was a subject that Ouma wasn’t comfortable talking about, and if he pushed it, he was afraid that it would scare Ouma off.

He sighed. “Okay, sorry about that. But stay and eat, okay?”

Ouma said nothing for a second. Then he flipped his head up with a grin. “Wow, Momota-chan really wants me to eat, huh? Is that your kink?”

“Wha-no!”

“Eh, could be worse. You could be all gross like Iruma-chan!”

“I said it’s not like that!”

Ouma simply smirked, apparently content with his derailment of the conversation. He did take a seat back on the bed, picking up his meal and eating a few more bites, for which Kaito was thankful.

After a couple minutes of silence, Kaito cleared his throat and held up the milk puzzle box again. “So, do you wanna do this or not?”

“Ooooh, how bold!”

“I mean the puzzle and you know it!”

Ouma paused to finish his bite of food. “Fine, but tomorrow, okay. I’m super tired right now.”

Kaito didn’t mention that it was only mid-afternoon. Ouma went silent as well after that, and the next time that Kaito looked over at him, he was staring blankly at the drying bloodstain on his sleeve. In one quick motion he tossed the rest of his meal back onto the bed and hopped up.

“Well, I’ve got to go now! See you tomorrow, my beloved Momota-chan!”

And with that, he was off before Kaito could utter a single word.

Ouma was just messing with him, of course, but…beloved Momota-chan.

He couldn’t help but like the sound of that.


	14. In Which Kokichi does a puzzle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's been a little while. I've been busy because of my birthday and also I got sick. On my birthday. So that was fun :/  
> But I'm better now and I'm back with an update!

The minute he shut the door to his room, Kokichi slapped a hand over his mouth, trying his hardest to keep the bile from rising out of his throat. Spewing his first real meal in two days all over the floor would just make everything infinitely worse.

He tore his shirt off and tossed it aside, pulling on a plain brown sweater issued by Hope’s Peak instead. He’d clean it later when he didn’t feel so sick.

Stupid. This was stupid. It was just a spot of blood, and he’d seen a lot of that recently. Maybe it was just because he hadn’t eaten in a while.

But that was a lie, and he knew it. He knew exactly why the sight of blood on his clothes made him feel so ill. He pulled his bandaged arms to his chest, rubbing at them idly. He could retrieve the box cutter again and continue his path of self-destruction, but…

He would rather go back to Momota, to do something, anything, to relieve the dark thoughts in his head. But how pathetic would that be?

He could probably spin it right. And then they could do the puzzle, which actually seemed kind of fun, and Kokichi could distract himself for a little while, even if he didn’t deserve such a mercy.

The coldness of his room was growing too much to bear anyway, so he took a few deep breaths and a sip of flat grape soda to calm down before making his return.

 

Momota looked surprised to see him again, but Kokichi already had a spiel prepared.

“Hey there, Momota-chan!” He faked a big yawn. “Well, I’ve had a nice long nap, and now I’m ready to do your silly little jigsaw puzzle because” another change of expression, this time he scrunched up his face in fake tears “I just missed my beloved Momota-chan so much that I couldn’t stand to spend one more second away from him!”

Momota look exasperated. He probably wanted to make a comment about how much Kokichi had wanted to avoid him before. He also probably wouldn’t voice that comment in the hopes of not pushing Kokichi away. Predictable.

“Well, okay.” Momota rubbed the back of his head and opened his door all the way.

Kokichi made a show of waltzing in like he owned the place. He took a seat on the floor while Momota retrieved the puzzle.

It was, indeed, a fine way to pass the time. He got a bit of a kick out of teasing Momota when he tried to fit the wrong pieces together, but at least the other boy didn’t take Kokichi too seriously. As fun as it was to tease Momota, he didn’t really want to hurt his feelings.

But he wasn’t supposed to be thinking like that. He was supposed to push Momota away, not be all buddy-buddy with him. What he wanted shouldn’t matter.

In the silence of Kokichi mulling things over, Momota cleared his throat. “Hey, Ouma?”

Hurray, more questions. Kokichi raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

Momota took a moment to respond. “Do…do you really think that I don’t care about you?”

“Yep!” Kokichi hoped his cheerful yet terse answer would end this conversation, but apparently he was wrong.

“Why? Why do you think that?”

Kokichi didn’t want to see the hurt look on Momota face, so he looked down at the puzzle. It took a little longer than he’d like to come up with a response. “Well, then tell me what you like about me.”

“Well…” Momota took a moment to think, probably coming up with some half-baked answer. “Everything’s a lot less boring when you’re around. You know, that week you were in hospital was kinda dull. And you’re really smart and good at games, so playing against you is super exciting. And you can definitely be a nice guy when you wanna be. I mean, you helped me paint my room. That was pretty cool.”

Kokichi blinked. For once, he had no idea what to say. He’d expected Momota to dance around the question for a while before saying something vague about him not being that bad or whatever was the nicest way to tell someone “I don’t actually like you that much but I feel bad for you and I don’t want to feel responsible if you kill yourself”. But instead, Momota had given him an actual answer.

It felt like a punch to the gut. The idea that there was anything likeable about him at all was absurd, but Momota had managed to make him sound like an almost decent person.

Kokichi tilted his head down in case any rogue emotions wanted to make themselves visible. “You’re wrong.”

“What?”

“Or it’s just a lie, right?” That was way easier to swallow.

“Ouma, look at me.”

Kokichi did, feeling a bit like a scolded child. Momota’s face was serious. Kokichi would like to consider himself good at reading people, and everything about Momota’s demeanor screamed that he was telling the truth.

“Do you really think I’m lying?”

No. Kokichi didn’t say it out loud though. Momota really did care about him. There really were things about Kokichi Ouma that Momota had decided were redeeming qualities. That was terrible, it was the worse, it went against all of his rules, it was…

It was nice.

Kokichi wanted to cry. Well, he could spin that. Even real tears could look fake if they were dramatic enough. So Kokichi scrunched up his face and wailed loudly. “WAHH! I can’t believe that Momota-chan is proposing to me! I’m so happy!”

“What?”

Okay, time to reel it in. If he stayed sad for too long, Momota might think he was serious. Kokichi pulled his arms behind his head. “Juuust kidding.” He flashed a smile for emphasis, but the look on Momota’s face said he didn’t believe him.

“There are totally way better people for you to be friends with, though. People who don’t lie to and mock you.”

Maybe he was pushing the line of self-deprecation, because Momota looked all sad again. “Do you…think you don’t deserve to be my friend?”

_Yes._ “How arrogant! I’m way better than you so you’re the one who should be begging to be my friend!”

Momota didn’t relent. Kokichi must be getting predictable. “When you talk about hating liars, are you talking about yourself too?”

Man, Momota was hitting way too close to home. It was getting kind of tiresome. He felt his default response of “I was lying about hating liars, duh” rise in his throat, but instead, all he said was “yep.”

Why did he say that? Momota was looking at him with something gross like pity, so it was time to backtrack. “That was a lie, though.”

Momota sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Come on man, why won’t you talk to me? Why are you trying so hard to push me away?”

Kokichi ignored him, but Momota apparently found the answer himself. “Because you think you don’t deserve to be around me?”

Kokichi maintained his silence. He was way too tired for this, though.

“I want to help you because I care about you! So please, let me help.”

He’d had enough. Kokichi climbed to his feet and walked to the door. “You can’t help me, okay. So…”

_So leave me alone!_

_Please don’t leave. Please help me._

Kokichi left without another word.


	15. In Which Kaito askes some questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, its been kind of a while, huh? Well, I've been pretty busy with both art requests and getting ready to return to college, so I've hardly had any time to write. So updates might be a little bit slower for a while here, but hopefully I'll be able to get back into the swing of things soon.
> 
> Some notes: Japan, especially rural Japan, where Kaito's from, doesn't have a great track record with mental health. Japanese culture places the importance of society in general over individuals, so in many places mentally ill people are seen as burdens on their friends and family or as lazy and unwilling to try harder.

Kaito sighed, shifting the half-finished milk puzzle to the corner of the room. He was doing a lot of sighing lately, but, well, he couldn’t help but be frustrated. He’d thought maybe Ouma would finally talk to him, but instead he’d just run away again.

Kaito wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he was quickly realizing he was not very well equipped to help Ouma. He’d never been able to understand why someone would want to die in the first place; surely there was always something to live for. Even if it was just friends or good food or, hell, the next episode of some television show. Did Ouma not have anything like that?

He thought about how he’d interacted with Hoshi when the school year had begun. He’d been excited at first, to meet his middle school idol. He distanced himself from Hoshi quickly, feeling as though his hopes had been crushed by the way the former tennis star had changed. Maybe things could have been different if he’d tried to understand.

He’d always thought he was capable enough to handle whatever problems came his way, but there was no harm in getting a little help.

So Kaito pulled out his desk chair, flipped open his laptop, and took to the internet.

He paused for a moment, letting his cursor hover over the search bar, before he typed in his first query: “how to help a friend who’s suicidal?”

He read through a few articles stressing the importance of being supportive and non-judgmental before he moved on to articles on mental illness.

Kaito thought back to his childhood, life in a small countryside town populated mostly by the elderly. There had been an older girl there who had occasionally watched over him when he was little if his grandparents weren’t able to keep up with Kaito’s energy. She’d helped him to build a cardboard boat and sword. She’d pretended to be a pirate, covering one eye with a bandanna and doing silly voices whilst tapping at Kaito’s boat with her own cardboard sword. She’d stopped coming by when he got older enough to look after himself. He’d been disappointed at the time, wondering if she had only played with him because of the pay she’d receive for babysitting. He only learned where she’d really gone by eavesdropping on his grandparents, pressing a ear against the shoji screen while they discussed “how disappointing” it was. It was the kind of thing whispered about behind closed doors. She stayed in her house, the curtains always drawn, and her parents avoided any mention of her.

 _It wasn’t safe to be around her._ That’s what his grandfather had told him, because there was something wrong with her head, and what a shame too, she was such a kind and smart girl, if only she’d tried a little harder to be better then she wouldn’t be such a burden on her family…

Kaito frowned. At that time, he’d been frightened by his grandparents words. He’d never learned exactly what had been wrong with that girl, but he wondered if it was anything like what was wrong with Ouma. But Ouma wasn’t really dangerous to anyone except himself, and Kaito wasn’t scared of him. Even when he made those creepy faces, Kaito was never in any real danger.

Was Ouma the type of person who would be locked away if he lived in Kaito’s town? That felt like a sad thing.

Kaito’s grandfather was a kind man who would never hurt a soul, he was sure of that. But he was from an older time when things were much different. His grandfather talked of wartime, of working on rice farms through his youth rather than going to high school. Trusting his grandparent’s perception of the world had caused him trouble in the past.

He went back to searching.

What mental illness might Ouma have? Depression? It seemed plausible according to the symptoms, but Kaito was no therapist.

Therapy, huh?

Kaito had an idea.

 

The office was tucked away from the main hallway, back by the faculty and headmaster’s offices. On the door was a sleek gold label reading “Gekkogahara Miaya. Ultimate Therapist”.

Kaito knocked.

From within, a soft voice spoke. “Come in.”

Gekkogahara’s office had a comfortable feel to it, between the soft-looking sofas and bookcases and the wide-open window, through which a few rays of sunlight streamed.

The owner of the office sat behind her desk. She looked up at Kaito and typed at her laptop keyboard with impressive speed. The laptop also seemed to have a screen facing the doorway, which struck Kaito as unusual, but he quickly realized its use when the screen lit up with the image of a cartoonish pale pink rabbit.

“Hi there!” The rabbit’s voice was far different from the voice Kaito had heard outside, a thought which he voiced out loud.

If Gekkogahara, who Kaito assumed must be speaking through the rabbit, was fazed by his question, she didn’t show it. “I do most of the talking for Gekkogahara-san. She saves her real voice for her sessions.”

The rabbit’s voice was childish, and Kaito was a bit relieved to hear she didn’t use that voice in her therapy work. It sounded like the sort of thing that would drive most high schoolers, Ouma included, up a wall.

“I’m free to talk right now if you want to take a seat.”

Kaito shut the door behind him and sat down on one of the sofas. Even though the rabbit voice was a bit grating, the office still felt calm and inviting.

When Gekkogahara spoke again, it was in her own voice, soft and gentle. “How can I help you?”

Kaito thought for a moment, pushing his fists together. “Well, it’s about this buddy of mine.”

She listened patiently as Kaito summarized everything that had occurred with Ouma thus far, only occasionally interrupting to confirm what he was saying. When he had finished, she took a moment to think before answering.

“Well, I think it’s best to give your friend time to open up naturally. If you pressure him too much, it will only push him further away. But make sure he knows you’re willing to listen if he wants to talk.”

Kaito nodded along.

“I think it would be a good idea for him to come talk to me at some point, but only if he wants to. But it would be good for you to watch for warning signs of suicide. You said he hides his true emotions by pretending to be happy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if he starts acting more genuinely happy or calm for no apparent reason, or if he starts giving you his belongings, come talk to me, okay.”

Kaito agreed, committing her words to heart. “Thanks. That’s all I have to say, I guess.”

He made to leave the office, but paused with one hand on the doorknob. “Actually, I do have one more question.”

“Alright.”

Kaito’s heart pounded in his chest. “H-how do you know if you…if you’re in love.”


	16. In Which Kokichi has a party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm not dead! Sorry for the long hiatus, real life has taken its toll on my writing time. I ended up losing some of my writing when I had to switch computers because my old one went kaput (turns out computers don't last for 8 years :p). And immediately afterwards I had to return to school which ate up almost all of my free time. I also got really sick, too sick to write or do anything but lie in bed and THEN I had to make up all the work I missed. So I didn't really get the chance to write much. But I hope to not have such a long hiatus again!
> 
> Andddd this is a chapter I had planned back when I thought I would be this far in June otL

Kokichi didn’t even realize what day it was until he checked his phone.

Well, he was officially sixteen. It didn’t really mean much to him, not anymore. It was just another day. Last year, the other DICE members snuck into a hotel kitchen to make a cake for him and nearly burned the place down. They’d ended up hiding out behind a convenience store to avoid the police, eating the actually-fairly-decent cake and celebrating.

Well, that wouldn’t be happening this year. Kokichi’s chest ached, and he fell back down on his bed, content to wait a few more minutes before getting up, because that was the point he’d reached, apparently.

He pushed his memories back into the recesses of his mind, but the thoughts left behind weren’t much better.

_I never should have been born._

 

Kokichi went to class anyway, deciding against mentioning his birthday. Normally, he’d throw a fit over how cruel everyone was to forget about it, even though he’d never told them, but he would rather avoid the topic for now. Akamatsu would probably get all upset and demand that the class hold a party for him, a party which absolutely no one would want to attend.

Then again, if what Momota had said was true, maybe he would…

Kokichi cleared his thoughts of Momota from his head as he took a seat at his desk.

He felt a light weight on the top of his head, and turned around to see Amami standing over him with a smile.

“Hey, Ouma-kun. I’m back.”

Kokichi didn’t know where Amami had gone in his travels, but from his tan, it was probably somewhere warm.

“Wow! I hope Amami-chan brought me back a souvenir!”

Amami rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry, it wasn’t really that sort of trip, but I do have some pictures if you want to see.”

“Sounds boring, but okay!”

Amami showed him a few photos in an envelope, mostly of him in front of an array of tropical flora. There was one picture of him holding a snake of some kind, which Kokichi thought was kind of cool, actually.

“I bet Amami-chan got bitten by that snake and is gonna die a slow, painful death from its venom.”

Amami laughed softly, before slipping away to his desk as their teacher entered. Really, Kokichi did appreciate Amami for humoring him, even if it was out of some sense of brotherly duty. But it wasn’t quite as fun to tease him when he was always so chill.

Great, now he was thinking of Momota again.

 

Momota invited him back to his room to finish up their puzzle from yesterday, complaining about how it was all over the floor or something. It would probably be safer to say no, but for some reason, Kokichi agreed. Unfortunately, Iruma overheard their conversation and made some choice remarks about what exactly they would get up to in Momota’s room and Kokichi responded in kind while Momota spluttered.

Their exchange managed to go unnoticed, as the rest of the class had become pretty good at tuning out Iruma and his banter, so the two of them left for Momota’s room.

They walked down the hall together, and Kokichi thought about how if Momota was Amami, he would have asked for a piggyback ride.

Well, there was no reason he couldn’t do such a thing with Momota.

He pulled at the back of Momota’s space jacket, and the other boy turned around in surprise.

Momota-chan, give me a piggyback ride,” he whined, sinking downwards and pulling Momota’s jacket with him.

Momota only thought for a second before apparently swallowing his pride and bending down so Kokichi could cling to him.

Aside from when he’d grabbed Kokichi’s arm, it was the first real physical contact the two of them had had since the night in the fort. Momota was still warm and sturdy and Kokichi had to hold himself back from burying his head in the crook of Momota’s neck. How touch-starved was he?

He decided against answering that question.

They made it back to the dorms without much difficulty, thought Kokichi poked at the back of Momota’s head a few times before Momota threatened to drop him and Kokichi threatened to cry all over his gelled hair.

Their puzzle was a little over halfway done, but at least the outer ring was filled in, leaving only the middle. They worked in silence for a couple minutes before Kokichi decided to speak.

“It’s my birthday.”

Just when he’d resolved to not bring it up. He wondered just how much information he would spill around Momota. It was a scary train of thought that he quickly pushed aside.

Momota blinked at him. “What, really?”

 _Nope, that was a lie_ was what Kokichi might have said a week ago, but lying to Momota wasn’t quite as fun anymore. “Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t get me a present or anything.” He pouted.

Momota rubbed the back of his head. “Well, shit, dude, sorry I didn’t know.”

Well, now he’d made Momota feel back. Good going, Kokichi.

Momota bounced back instantly though. “Do you want a cake or something? I bet Tojo would be happy to make you one.”

Ugh, he wasn’t hungry. But at least it was still mostly enjoyable to eat desserts. What the hell, why not? It was probably the last birthday he’d ever have anyway.

“Aww, I wanted a designer cake from a super famous bakery! But I guess Mom’s cake will have to do.”

 “Do you want anyone else to come to your party?”

Well, apparently he was having a party now. He tried to think of the people who would be the least unhappy about attending.

“Gonta and Amami-chan.” That sounded about right. Maybe Akamatsu, but she would probably try to get everyone to come to his party, even miss assassin, and that was the last thing Kokichi wanted. Plus, things had been awkward between him and Akamatsu and Saihara for a while now, and Kokichi wasn’t in the mood to deal with that.

 

And so that was how he, Momota, Gonta and Amami came to be seated out at the picnic table in the courtyard while Tojo finished up the cake.

Tojo, always prepared for anything, had also brought a bunch of party hats and streamers. Gonta broke the elastic on his hat, to his disappointment, but the cardboard managed to stay in his hair anyway.

Kokichi put on a hat as well, proclaiming it to be his crown, which was definitely a thing evil leaders said, and tried to spear Amami with it when he tried to ruffle Kokichi’s hair again.

“Wow, it’s a real sausage fest here, huh?” Maybe he should have invited Iru—no, definitely not.

“Huh? Are we having sausage? Sorry, Gonta didn’t know.”

Well, this was why he couldn’t complain jokingly about the lack of presents, because Gonta would get all sad.

“Oh! For Kokichi-kun’s birthday, Gonta can show him some of his favorite bugs!”

“Actually, it’s against my religion to have birthday presents and that’s the truth,” Kokichi said very quickly. If Momota called him out on his lie, Kokichi would never forgive him ever.

Thankfully, Kokichi was saved from any further conversation by the appearance of Tojo and her cake.

He proclaimed that she was “the best mom ever” and helped himself to a large slice of cake, only realizing that he didn’t feel like eating the whole thing once it was already on his plate. Force of habit, he supposed.

“Wait wait wait! Don’t eat it yet, we haven’t sung! Or lit candles!” Momota protested, and in response Tojo pulled a box of candles from her apron pocket, apparently ready for everything. They better be joke candles.

While the others sang to him, he stuffed a bite of cake into his mouth, deciding this whole ordeal was too embarrassing to deal with. The cake was good, certainly better than the cheap store-bought ones of the past.

But still… he would give the world to be huddled on the pavement eating off a paper plate with his family.

But he couldn’t. He could never have that again.

His chest hurt even as he teased and laughed and he wondered, as he tilted his head upwards in case any stupid tears decided to make themselves known, why he couldn’t just be happy. Even if he didn’t deserve it, just once. One more time.

If the others noticed, they at least had the tact to not say anything. So he smiled at the people who pretended to care for him, and the one person who maybe did care about him, blew out the candles on his birthday cake and wished to be dead.


End file.
